The Lion, the Witch and the Vanishing Cabinet
by FiendLurcher
Summary: Listening to Luna usually yielded results. It might not be the results he usually wanted or expected, but results all the same. Though falling into another world when all he had wanted was to find out what Malfoy was up to was beyond even Harry's wildest dreams.
1. A Tumble Through Worlds

"Hello Harry."

"Ah!" he yelped, startled, and turned around with wide eyes.

Behind him Luna Lovegood stood, holding together her hands in front of her silver dress as she tilted her head at him curiously. Her dirty blonde hair and sparkling robes stood out against the dark stony grey of the Hogwarts' corridor they found themselves in, her silvery eyes almost shining like two dots of light in the dimness as they looked up at him.

"Luna, you..." Harry began but then paused as he peered suspiciously around the corner again. Leaning out and seeing that no one was there, he let out a sigh of relief. Both out of embarrassment and of having been discovered by _Malfoy._

"Oh no, the Wrackspurts are back, Harry." She commented dreamily, her nose wrinkling as she stared at something over his head. "Did you not like the party?"

"Uh, Wrackspurts...? No, the party was just fine, fine. I, uh..." He grasped for something to say, suddenly realizing he had all but abandoned his date—a friendly date, as friends, that is—as he had stalked after Malfoy and Snape, and wondering whether he should feel guilty about it. "It's just, I saw Malfoy and I know he's up to something! But Hermione keeps telling me I'm just imagining things, and Ron won't..."

He trailed off, realizing he was rambling, probably trying to explain why he had left her without actually apologizing.

Luna did not say anything to that, only continuing to stare at him with unblinking eyes. Sensing that he had nothing more to say, she nodded. "Oh. That's alright Harry. I had a lot of fun tonight." She looked away, then. "It's the first time anyone has taken me to a party like this. I'm not quite sure how one usually ends a night, as friends."

Suddenly, that sense of a mix of burning shame and heavy pity he had come to associate with Luna returned. "Luna, look, I'm really sorry about you just leaving you like that. I didn't mean to, but I just left before I knew it, when I saw Malfoy."

She smiled at him, accepting his apology without hesitation.

He too, smiled, before a thought occurred. "Wrackspurts...?"

"Oh, yes. They're small creatures that—"

"That make your head go fuzzy, you mentioned them before, yeah. I think..." Harry nodded as he looked away, missing the small smile Luna now sported. "That was how you found me on the train, under the cloak, right?"

She nodded once bouncing on her heels twice as if she was enjoying herself.

"Does, that is... Do other people have them, too?"

"Oh, yes! Quite a few people. Everyone seems to be quite fuzzy in the brain nowadays."

He faltered at that, realizing that perhaps his idea wasn't worth exploring after all. Maybe he should have thought things through a bit more, before asking Luna. It wasn't as if she was the most reliable of people. Or rather, she _was_, but...

"You're very grim tonight, Harry. Is it about You-Know-Who?" Luna asked suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He blinked, before admitting somewhat sheepishly that it wasn't so. "Uh, err, no. Not exactly."

"Oh..." She said, nodding once and she seemed to almost deflate.

Footsteps echoed around the corner and Harry tensed up at the sound, frowning as he glanced back and forth between Luna and the corner he had been eyeing minutes before.

Luna meanwhile only peered up at him, curious to see what he would do.

"Sod it," Harry murmured as he wrapped an arm around Luna and pulled her close, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from her. At the same time, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his cloak of invisibility with a flourish, he cast it over them both and pressed his back to the wall. "Sorry..." he whispered, pulling her a little bit closer and making sure the cloak covered both of their feet. It was good that she was as tiny as she was.

With a final gesture of his index finger raised to his mouth, he stilled.

Moments later Snape came stalking down the hallway, sweeping past them with his billowing black cloak darkening even the ancient walls like a passing mad, dancing shadow wraith. He could feel Luna peering around, straining to remain motionless while still trying to see what was happening.

The potions professor marched past them with such speed that the air rushed with him, disturbing the cloak pooled around them just enough that suddenly Harry could feel cool air at his ankles. Luna felt it too, judging by the small gasp or surprise she let out.

Snape halted, frowning as he turned around. His beady black eyes narrowed as he scanned the dark corridor and in response, Harry unconsciously pressed his back harder against the wall, pulling Luna closer. Snape sneered, casting one more glance around him before he continued his stalking back to wherever it was that he was going.

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, the air rushing out and messing up Luna's hair. She sniffed and suddenly he felt extremely conscious of their closeness. Forcing himself not to just push her off, he deliberately stepped away from the wall and removed the cloak.

"Sorry, I uh..." He struggled for words.

Luna looked up at him, eyes dreamy and a slight flush coloring her face. "That was quite exciting..." She whispered happily.

He had to chuckle at that. "Yeah, it was."

"Thank you, Harry. Walking around after curfew is a sure way to lose points, after all."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he agreed before shaking his head. "It's more than that, though. Snape is helping Malfoy—I heard them talking about it. He said he made an Unbreakable Oath or something, but Malfoy didn't seem impressed. But, but I know they're up to something!"

"Oh...!" Luna's eyes widened, her hands rising up to cover her mouth. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yeah, that's it," he said with a grin, snapping his fingers at her as she said the words.

She blinked staring down at his raised hand curiously.

"That Unbreakable Vow, what is it?" Harry asked, ignoring her obvious interest in his hand for now.

"Oh, it's an Unbreakable Vow, Harry," Luna explained, looking up with a very serious expression. "You can't break it. Or you'll die."

He had been about the make a dry remark that he had already figured out the first part for himself, but the latter half of what she had said gave him pause. "Wait... die? As in, _die_, die?"

She nodded very seriously, the usually dreamy look in her eyes now nowhere to be seen, indicative of just how abnormal a thing that was.

"I _knew_ there was something going on! Malfoy had something to do with Katie, I know it. I saw him at Borgin & Burkes, too. He was asking all sorts of questions, but I just can't figure out what..."

Luna hmm'ed thoughtfully in response to his continued grumbled. Then she tilted her head, thinking aloud as she spoke. "He does have a lot of Wrackspurts about him..."

Harry perked up—hadn't that been just what he had been thinking about asking her? "More than usual? I mean, like, lots and lots of them? McGonagall gave him detention for falling behind in Transfiguration, so he's got to be up to _something!_"

She nodded once. Somehow the contrast between Luna talking about her strange animals and the gravity of the topic created a strange shift in her usual behavior. He almost felt guilty about dragging her creatures—obviously something she very much enjoyed—into a topic this grim, but...

"Luna, could you, _I don't know_, perhaps use these Wrackspurts to track Malfoy or something?"

She looked at him, silvery eyes serious and sharp as they peered up at him. Expectant, almost _wary_, he thought. As if she was judging him, yet hoping for something. He didn't really know what to believe of her animals, but it was a lead. And she was the only one who seemed to believe him about Malfoy.

"You two do seem to attract them the most..."

He couldn't afford to not follow up on this.

"Luna, please? It would mean a lot to me if you could help me."

Her expression softened into a smile as an intense look took to her eyes. She nodded once and turned around, skipping away from him. "I'll need my spectrespecs, Harry. I was told not to bring them to the party, you see."

Grinning, he rushed after her. "Let's go then."

As they walked back to Ravenclaw Tower, she mused to herself. "Do friends walk each other back after the party, too...?"

* * *

The Ravenclaw common room had been interesting, even so late into the night.

He hadn't been able to walk with Luna the whole way into her dorm, but that was probably for the best. Who knew what kind of wards were in place in the Ravenclaw tower girl's dorm. He had thought that it would be fine to stay outside the entrance but she had pulled him along without a word, skipping with every step all the way up.

Feeling rather ridiculous in his dress robes, sitting in the empty common room, he wondered what people would say if they saw him here. Maybe he should take out his cloak and hide for now, or... He jumped up once he heard her coming back down. And barely managed to hold back his snort at the sight of Luna wearing the rather garish glasses again.

She tilted her head, but because the spectrespecs covered most of her face he couldn't quite tell what she was thinking of his reaction. For a moment he hesitated, feeling rather foolish again. Maybe this would just be a waste of time.

"You don't want to change clothes, Luna? We could do this another time..." he asked, eyeing her dress again.

"Are you tired, Harry?"

He shook his head, before biting back a curse. She had just given him a good out and he had answered honestly without thinking.

"That's good," she said with a smile. "The Wrackspurts won't move until morning when people are up and fuzzy again."

He blinked, excited bubbling anew within him as he grinned. "Right, so we can find Malfoy's tracks if we go looking now?"

"Mhmm," she said with an airy nod.

Harry got up and rushed over to her, grabbing her hand as he turned to walk to the entrance again. "Let's go then. We don't have all night!"

"Yes, Harry."

* * *

It had been two hours, now.

They had almost been caught twice already, but with the help of the Cloak of Invisibility and the Marauder's Map, they had managed to explore much of the castle.

Exploring mostly meaning following Luna as she skipped through hallways and chambers, peeking into various classrooms and broom closets while humming quietly. Harry yawned, biting back the worst of the gesture by putting his fist into his mouth. Blearily stretching and rubbing the sand out of his eyes, he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed.

This wasn't really working out as he had hoped.

Still, glancing at Luna, he supposed it wasn't a complete waste of time.

"Oh," Luna suddenly exclaimed as she stopped. Turning around, she looked around and by the set of her mouth, Harry suspected she was frowning.

He too now looked around and finally noticed something. It was the painting of Barnabas the Barmy. Turning around with a deep frown, he stared at the patch of bare wall opposite the picture. Wasn't this where the Room of Requirement was?

Could Malfoy have been trying to do something with it?

Glancing at Luna who was still curiously walking around, he decided to try it.

"The room Malfoy last visited, the room Malfoy last visited, the room Malfoy last visited..." he muttered under his breath as he walked back and forth. But, nothing happened. No door, no room. Scowling, he tried again but this time he thought of the room he had been using last year with the D.A.

Opening the door that appeared, he stared into the familiar training hall. Behind him, Luna was peering under his arm at the room curiously. "Are you thinking about starting the D.A. again, Harry?"

She sounded hopeful, reminding him suddenly of her asking that during the train ride. "Err, no... I was just testing it. It couldn't tell me which room Malfoy was last in, so I thought it might have been broken. Or something."

"Oh..." She nodded, once again serious. "May I try?"

"Knock yourself out," he said with a gesture as he closed the door.

"Maybe later," she dreamily commented, giving him pause for a moment.

She walked before the blank space of wall three times and he suddenly wondered whether he had ever told her how to use the room. But as the door appeared, he couldn't deny that she seemed to know what she was doing.

Turning around to look at him, she smiled. "I asked for the room with the most Wrackspurts in it."

He chortled, not sure if she was serious. At her slight frown—or what he thought was a frown, given that her spectrespecs were still hiding most of her face—he cleared his throat. "Keep your mouth closed when you open the door."

"Huh?"

"Well, if the room is full of Wrackspurts, you'd get a mouthful if you're not careful..." he explained.

There was a moment of utter stillness before she suddenly began to laugh. Holding her stomach with both of her hands, she almost keeled over as she laughed.

Harry jumped, almost startled out of his skin at her reaction. "Ah, Luna, _shh_, not so, not so loud..." He looked around, as it expecting Snape to come stalking around the corner any second now.

But Luna only shook her head with mirth, taking off her garish glasses as she wiped tears from her eyes as she reached for the wall for support. Unable to help himself, Harry had to chuckle quietly as well. It had been a pretty long night after all.

"That's so funny, Harry! You would go completely fuzzy if there were that many Wrackspurts. We'd forget what we were doing and they would find us walking around Hogwarts, completely lost tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, they'd probably think we spent the night snogging ourselves silly in a broom closet, huh?"

That gave her pause, but a second later her laughter returned in doubled amount. Waiting for her to calm down, he drew his wand and settled next to the door.

Finally, after she got herself back under control, Luna drew her own wand and settled on the opposite side of the door. They exchanged a look as Harry reached out for the handle, but as Luna raised her other hand to cover her mouth he almost cracked and started laughing again. From the dancing mirth in her eyes, it was obvious it had been an intentional gesture.

He reached over and grasped the handle, pulling it open and stepping back and away from the door as he did with his wand at the ready. But nothing came out. Or at least, nothing he could see. Looking at Luna who had put on her spectrespecs again, he waited for her to take the lead.

"No Wrackspurts, Harry."

He let out a sigh of relief, putting away his wand. The thought of the room creating a space full of invisible creatures that made his head go fuzzy didn't sit right with him, so he was glad to find out the room couldn't just create them. Maybe there was some kind of charm to repel the things he could learn...? _Later_, he reminded himself.

Taking the lead he peered into the room, gasping at the sight before him.

Mountains of junk, towering far above and away into the depths of a massive room. Cloaks, books, chairs, tables, beds... Everything and anything he could imagine. Broken and rusted suits of armour, swords, and even a bloody battleaxe just laying around.

Harry swallowed, turning to look at Luna.

"Well, we found _something._"

She nodded, entering cautiously with her wand still held aloft.

Guided by Luna's lead, Harry followed. At first, he was sure she knew what she was looking for, but soon it became apparent that they were just lost. Or that Luna was too fascinated by everything around them and had forgotten what they had come here to do. He had to admit that he was looking around with quite a bit of amazement himself as well, so couldn't fault her much for it.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of walking, they came to a halt before a large cabinet. One that Harry recognized immediately. "That's the broken cabinet, from the first floor. The one the twins talked about..."

Lune turned around to look at Harry, raising the spectrespecs up so that they acted like a hairband. "The Wrackspurts are here."

"Should we... maybe step back a bit?" he wondered, having gained a newfound respect and fear for the things.

"Oh, no. They're sleeping right now," Luna assured him with a smile.

He nodded with a grin, before walking forward to investigate the cabinet more closely. Opening both doors widely, he stuck his head inside and... found nothing inside. But he noted that it was large enough for him to get inside, much like the other one he remembered seeing in Borgin & Burkes in his second year.

"I don't remember ever seeing this cabinet..." Luna noted as she stood behind him.

"Yeah, it was a bit hidden..." Harry explained before a grin sprouted on his face. Turning around to look at Luna who was now standing on her toes some feet away from him, he continued. "I only remember it because Fred and George told me they shoved Montague in it last year when he was being particularly foul with his 'inquisitorial duties'. He was gone for weeks!"

She blinked owlishly, gasping at the story. But she didn't laugh as he had expected her to, seeming more shocked and curious than anything else. "Was he alright?"

"Err, I guess. He came back, sometime later from what I heard," he explained, somewhat lamely.

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "So, it's a Vanishing Cabinet, then."

"Right." He nodded. "But what does Malfoy want with it?"

Was he trying to make something vanish? Was that why he had been trying to smuggle in Dark jewellery from Hogsmeade? To what... Dispose of it? Scratching his head, Harry didn't quite get it.

There had to be better ways of going about stuff like that, though. Would it make better sense to bring in the jewellery to frame Dumbledore, or curse him? Why try and make it vanish with the cabinet? Couldn't you just do that with the spell, too?

"I wonder where its pair is..." Luna mused, bringing Harry back from his own thoughts.

"Pair?" he repeated.

"Oh yes. What you put in one goes into the other. So I have heard. A bit strange, if you ask me. Vanished thing go into non-being, usually, they don't pop up when someone tries to vanish something else, after all." she stated, wrinkling her nose in thought.

"That would be a bit barmy for a cabinet though, wouldn't it? You put your things in and then when you need them again, they're gone? Wouldn't you rather have a vanishing spell in—I don't know—a bin or a pot?"

"Oh, so it's a switching cabinet?" she asked curiously, before shaking her head. "But that doesn't alliterate, it's no good as a name."

He frowned, unable to come up with an adequate answer. Finally, he only shrugged, turning back to investigate the cabinet. He walked around the cabinet, exploring it from every angle, finally settling behind it. Crouching down, he noted that there were signs of recent tampering near the rear left foot of the cabinet, though to what end he didn't know.

As he was looking, Luna's words weighed heavily on his mind.

The cabinet had a pair.

The cabinet looked _just_ like the one in Borgin & Burkes.

Then it hit him; Malfoy wasn't trying to vanish—or _switch_—something from Hogwarts, he was trying to vanish something at Borgin & Burkes. And bring it into Hogwarts past its wards!

"Luna, I got it, it's—" Harry shouted, standing up and rushing back around the cabinet.

But she wasn't there. He blinked, looking around and frowned.

"Luna?" She wasn't there, he was alone in the gigantic room. His wand snapped into his hand and he cried out, "_Luna!_"

The only answer he received was a faint echo of his own cry; she wasn't there.

He turned around, dread mounting, as he stared at the cabinet. His eyes were drawn to the spectrespecs laying on the shelf, next to the closed cabinet door. The door he had left partially open after checking the insides out earlier.

Jerking open the cabinet door, he stared inside.

"_Lumos_," he said as he brought his wand out to light up the insides properly. But it was empty. He closed the cabinet, opening it again but there was no change.

"Luna! Can you hear me?" he shouted now, repeating her name several more times as he turned around and peered around the massive room. Hoping beyond hope that she would come traipsing in from behind some pile or another. But she was nowhere to be found.

He swallowed, turning back to the cabinet.

She must have jumped inside to figure out where it went, where the other cabinet was. She was like that, more guts and imagination than good sense. It was why she had come with him to the Ministry, he was sure. He couldn't just leave her, he thought as he wrenched open the cabinet himself and stepped inside. He had to find her and make sure she was alright!

He wasn't going to lose anyone else. Not if he could help it!

The cabinet door closed with a soft thud, his wand-light illuminating the cramped space just enough for him to start feeling claustrophobic and remind him of his childhood.

And then his stomach fell through the floor. Tumbling, he let out a shout of surprise which was soon joined in by a gasp and a cry of pain and surprise.

"L-Luna? Is that you? Are you alright?" he struggled to get off her as he held his wand with one hand and after a moment of tangled limbs and awkward shuffling, he managed to sit down opposite Luna.

"Hello Harry," she greeted him dreamily.

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, he could only palm his forehead. "Hello, Luna."

There was a moment of awkward silence as neither could quite figure out what to say. It was obvious that they hadn't appeared in the other cabinet as Luna had hoped, but rather become trapped in some _other_ place, perhaps between the two cabinets. At least, that was what he hoped had happened. The alternative was that they had been scattered into non-being; a rather unattractive possibility at the best of times, really.

Regardless, where there had been lacquered wood, there was no indeterminable darkness around them that swallowed all the light from his still-lit wand. It was as if they were inside a pouch of some kind, yet it was firmer than that, that contained them in nothingness.

"Are you alright?" he asked finally.

"Yes, thank you. You didn't fall very hard on me, Harry, though you have very bony knees."

"Oh, umm, sorry." He grimaced, suddenly sheepish. Hoping for a distraction, he looked around, raising his wand to see if they could find something. "Where are we?"

It was dark and cramped. Not at all like the inside of the cabinet, instead, they were surrounded by nothing but wholly impenetrable darkness.

"I don't know. But I could hear you shouting earlier, Harry. It was as if you were near and far at the same time," Luna said, her protuberant eyes shining in the darkness, reflecting his magical light almost supernaturally in this space where nothing else did.

"Oh," he replied with a frown. "Then, why didn't you answer? I thought you might have been hurt."

"Well, I did try..." she looked away at his accusing tone.

"Really? I didn't hear anything." Harry shook his head. "Nevermind, I'm just glad you're not hurt."

She nodded, before blinking as if she had remembered something. "Oh, I found the lost Ravenclaw diadem."

Holding up an old silver tiara she looked extraordinarily pleased with herself. It was made out of swept strings of silver, coming together at the front to form a beak-like shape right above the nose, if one were to wear it. He could only blink and nod, seeing the thing, finding it quite plain, to be honest.

"That's good, I suppose."

"Yes, '_wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_,'" she sing-sang while holding the tiara in her outstretched hands, obviously happy with her find.

Harry frowned, suddenly reminded of something. "Are the others, umm... stealing and hiding your things again, Luna? Not the Nargles, I mean."

Luna blinked at him owlishly, tilting her head in obvious curiosity at his question. "Well, yes... But it's not so bad. My things always have a way of finding their way back, after all. Why do you ask, Harry?"

"Well, I mean, you found your tiara here, so I only thought..."

She blinked at him again, this time with her mouth hanging open. Then smiled and let out a bell-like laugh. "Oh no, Harry. This isn't _my diadem_, it's Rowena Ravenclaw's! It's been lost for ages."

"Oh."

Well, now he only felt silly. But blustering past his growing blush, he decided not to accept it at just that. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'll help you find your other things. Once we get out of here, I mean."

She smiled slightly at that, not saying anything.

"I mean, it's only fair that I help you find something after you helped me find something."

Her mouth formed a perfect o at that, as she considered his words. "Thank you, Harry. It could be fun, almost like Hallow Hunting."

He wasn't sure what that was, but the name reminded him of another game he had been forced to participate in when he had been younger, which soured his good mood slightly. Answering with a sour grunt, he returned his focus to their current predicament.

"Anyhow, we should get out of here first."

"I suppose that means we cannot wait here to be rescued," she ventured finally.

"Not from Hogwarts anyhow... I didn't exactly tell anyone I was going to go around at night... Did you, err, tell anyone?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. As she shook her head, he could only sigh. "Right, well... See if you can't find a cabinet door to push open..."

They fumbled around in the impenetrable darkness for several minutes until they both had to give up. There was nothing like that to be found here.

"Perhaps you could apparate us out of here, Harry? Have you had your apparition lessons yet?"

He grimaced. "No... We haven't even signed up, yet. Sorry."

She nodded.

"Besides, with Hogwarts' wards, we might not even be able to do so."

"The other cabinet might not be warded, however," she countered.

"Well, who knows where that is... Regardless, I don't know how to. Much less side-along apparating both of us—I'm not leaving you behind in any case."

"Oh."

They sat there in silence for an indeterminate while. Luckily they had at least eaten something at Slughorn's party, so they weren't hungry. But at this rate, it would seem that they would have to sleep in the cabinet before anything changed.

Time stretched on awkwardly until Harry was certain that he was about to fall asleep. He tried to fight his growing fatigue, but it had been a long day already, even before Slughorn's Christmas party, and after it had been even longer. He tried to think of a clever solution to their predicament; burning the cabinet while using flame freezing charms on themselves; blowing their way out with a Reductor curse; using a Patronus charm to call for help...

But none of those seemed like valid solutions. The flame might not find anything to burn aside from their air, and the Reductor curse could only blow solid objects out of their way. Those two spells might not work seeing as how they weren't actually inside either cabinet. For all he knew, they weren't even in any specific place that they could just get out of either. The Patronus had seemed like a solution until he had remembered that he didn't know how to send a message with his ethereal stag.

He felt so stupid now, having rushed in to join Luna. He should have gone for help. Dumbledore would have known how to rescue her and that way they wouldn't have both been stuck here. At this rate, no one would be able to tell what had happened to them and Malfoy would have free reign to continue with his plot.

With heavy thoughts taking over, and though try as he might resist, his heavy eyelids were slowly winning over him and drooping down over his eyes.

"Oh..." Luna exclaimed beside him, waking him up slightly again. Harry shook his head and frowned at the Ravenclaw, trying to figure out what she was doing.

She turned to face him, wearing the tia—_diadem _she had apparently found earlier. But whatever she had been hoping would happen did not come to pass, it seemed, as she removed the accessory from her temples with a sigh.

"What is it?"

"It's said that Ravenclaw's diadem will enhance the wearer's wisdom. But it doesn't seem to work. Maybe it's broken," Luna looked quite distraught as she looked down at the diadem in her hands.

Or maybe it's just some old worthless trinket, Harry thought to himself a bit meanly.

"Maybe you could try it, Harry?"

He scowled, already wanting nothing more than to fall asleep, even if their current location wasn't very comfortable. Perhaps not noticing his facial expression with his face shrouded by the harsh contrast and deep shadows of his wand-light held behind him, Luna reached over and placed the diadem on his head.

Scowling even harder, Harry reached up for the diadem as he spoke. "It doesn't work, I just look stu—"

But he froze, as there was a _twinge _of something. A ghostly sensation brushing past his mind, reminding him of someone else as his scar began to heat up. Legilimency? Or a scar vision from Voldemort again? Immediately he fought to remember how he had pushed Voldemort out of his mind at the Ministry, recalling the love and grief and pain that he filled his mind that night.

Those emotions that even a dark lord could not fight against.

But nothing happened for several seconds and he relaxed, just the littlest bit.

"Harry?" Luna asked quietly, bringing him back into the present.

He realized his emotions were overflowing. He wasn't crying—his eyes hadn't even begun to moist. But all the same his breath had been caught in his throat from all that he was suddenly feeling again, brought brimming back to the fore of his consciousness. "It's nothing, I'm fine."

"Did it..." she began, reaching for the diadem. But he raised a hand to halt her.

"I felt something. Give me a moment."

Feeling much more awake again, Harry concentrated. He tried to sense what it was that he had felt, but no matter what there didn't seem to be anything actually inside his mind. Not like there had been with Voldemort or even with Snape.

So he tried another tack.

_I want to apparate._

Nothi—_Destination, Determination, Deliberation_. Something flooded his mind. Not memory or knowledge, or even understanding. But rather a sense of something nudging him forward. Something maddeningly familiar, tickling at the back of his brain. _Reach out hyperagonally and sense the shadow cast by every object, the step sideways and turn the world._

He had been side-along apparated before. No, more than that, _he _had _apparated_ as well. It had been accidental magic, but he could clearly remember it now. Being chased by Dudley, back before Hogwarts, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. How he had suddenly appeared on the school's roof.

Could he do it again?

Reaching up, he grabbed the diadem and took it off and handed it back to Luna. It was too small for his head anyway.

"I think..." licking his lips, he looked at Luna. "I think I could try apparating us out of here. But I'm not sure how well it will work."

Luna peered at him attentively, saying nothing. Then, she nodded and accepted the diadem. Threading her arm through it so it rested in the crook of her elbow she reached over and grasped his, like she had during the party when he had been escorting her.

"There aren't many Wrackspurts here. You can do it, Harry."

He blinked as all tension suddenly vanished out of him. He couldn't help himself; he laughed then. "Alright, here I go. _Nox._"

The wand-light disappeared, plunging them into darkness again. That was fine—seeing things would just distract him. Or would it get in the way of feeling the shadows of... He shook his head to clear those thoughts away. He could feel his breathing and that of Luna's beside him. His heart was beating strongly in his chest, pulsating all the way to his legs beneath him.

Closing his eyes, he breathed slowly.

They needed to _get out_. He didn't know where they were, but as long as they got out it should be alright. He could see it now. Destination—beneath the open skies. So blue and lightly speckled with clouds. He wanted _out._ Too long had he been stuck in tight places like these. Determination—he wasn't going to stay here, he needed to warn Dumbledore about Malfoy's plans. He gripped his wand more rightly now, focusing on the grain of the wood against his skin. Deliberation—

There was a pop of rushing air, and suddenly both were simply gone.

* * *

**Hiya!**

**Been a while since I published anything. Wanted to do a bit of practice since MotM isn't cooperating and I feel a bit burned out. So this is just a casual thing, which will require nearly zero effort from me(at least, in comparison to MotM). So will work on this occasionally now, too.**

**And sometimes you just stumble on a name so good that you just _have to use it_.**


	2. Crabbing Around

Harry opened his eyes as the compressing sensation ended.

The cold and fresh air felt wonderful against his skin, as the rim of the sky appeared just up ahead so close to him that he felt he could just reach out and grab a hold of it. The sun was setting in the far distance across the sea, with its last rays mingling with the austere starlight beyond. There was just a moment of breathless exhilaration as he realized that _it had worked_, that he had just successfully _apparated!_

And then he realized they were falling.

"Whoa!"

He looked down and almost jolted so hard with surprise that he kicked off Luna—who he now realized was clinging to his dress robes and elbow, having realized they had appeared hundreds, maybe even thousands of feet above the ground.

Whiteness stretched in all directions beneath them and as he flailed, he realized again that they were _falling, _again. Which meant there would be an inevitable and rather harsh stop coming to greet them soon if they didn't do something. Lacking a broom, or even the reassuring press and weight of his quidditch gear, it took his brain an additional few seconds to remember the spell he and every other quidditch player was trained to remember and cast on a dime.

He grabbed a firmer hold of Luna, shouting at the top of his lungs in an effort to hear himself over the whipping gale tearing at his dress robes.

"_Arresto Momentum!_"

Luna made a sound of surprise, her grip on his robes causing them to tighten around his neck and pulling him a bit sideways in the air, but they were already slowing down to a much safer rate of descension. Below them, the ground was now only some hundred feet to go; not much more than at a normal quidditch game, allowing Harry to feel much more relaxed.

It gave him enough time and peace of mind to finally look around properly, so attempt to ascertain their location.

The snow-covered valley below didn't look familiar. Nor did the nearly-frozen body of water dominating one horizon, or the range of tall, dark foreboding mountains the other. He realized that this wasn't the Black lake nearly at once, as the great looming icebergs floating in the distance certainly weren't a feature he ever remembered seeing in Scotland.

His confused ogling came to a halt as they finally hit the ground, his bum making contact with dry, virgin powder snow. He realized suddenly that he hadn't seen _any_ tracks in the snow around them, regardless of how far he had tried to look, either.

Beside him Luna stood up, shivering slightly in her much less covering dress robes. Unlike his dark, layered dress robes that resembled a muggle suit, her silvery dress was just that; a dress. Her bare shoulders and arms certainly weren't suited for outdoor activities, especially not at this time of year.

"Here," he said as he took off his topmost layer, the cloak-like outer garment

She blinked at him curiously, her attention far too in demand by their strange environment and predicament for her to realize that she had just been shivering. Looking down at the proffered long dark over-robe, she smiled. "Oh, no. That's alright, Harry."

He frowned at her, not quite understanding her. She always seemed to refuse him when he wanted to help, which only made her seem more and more confusing.

"No, really Luna. You're _freezing_."

Not waiting for her to say anything again, he walked behind her and put the over-robe over her goose fleshing shoulders. She looked up at him, blinking twice with her wide, silver eyes.

"Oh... Thank you, Harry." The slight smile told him she had been cold.

And he realized that he too was feeling the chill now. Had been, even with his over robe too. The long fall had robbed them of any warmth. Shivering slightly, he thanked himself for at least having the forethought to wear decent loafers to the party.

Looking over, he realized Luna hadn't been quite so lucky.

Well, maybe she was used to it? She had been walking around barefoot all last year, after all. He shivered then, the cold seeping into his bones by now. But then a wave of warmth rushed over him. Blinking, he looked up and met eyes with Luna who had drawn her own wand and was now repeating the warming charm on herself as well. He grinned, realizing suddenly that her idea was probably the smarter one. _Ravenclaw, duh._

"Thanks, Luna."

"You're welcome, Harry," she told him dreamily as she put away her wand, already having cast one on herself as well.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around again. Seeing the mountains in the far distance, he realized just how utterly gigantic they truly were. Much bigger than anything he had ever seen in Scotland. Much, _much_ bigger.

"Perhaps we're in Narnia?" Luna asked, smiling slightly at him.

He blinked, not sure what to make of that. Never having been one to comment on her creatures one way or another, at least not to her face, he only shrugged. "Would you know how to get back to Hogwarts from there?"

Now she too seemed confused, before she shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, the sun was setting that way," Harry said pointing to what he was now dubbing 'west' in his mind. "So that would mean the sea over there is north, right?"

That put the mountain range behind them as south, with the coastline running east to west? Which would put them at the northern end of Scotland? Maybe? He wasn't quite sure how cold it got during the winter and whether floating icebergs were something to be found in the Atlantic sea.

She hummed thoughtfully. "The sun could be rising, Harry. It might be east and south."

Harry made a disgruntled sound of understanding, acknowledging her point. Raising his wand he spoke softly, "_Point Me_."

The Four-Point Spell was a useful trick he had learnt a few years ago in preparation for the third task of the Tri-Wizard tournament, allowing his wand to essentially act as a magical compass that pointed north. That would settle the question, also telling them what time of day it was.

He frowned. The wand wasn't reacting at all. Shaking it twice to see if that would make it work, he grunted and tried again. "_Point Me._"

"Harry..." Luna quietly murmured, pulling at his upper arm.

Grunting, he tried to see if his wand had been broken or something with some worry. It was his best weapon against Voldemort; he couldn't afford to lose it now, lest he lost his only real weapon against the dark lord.

"Harry..." She repeated, this time more insistent.

"What is it, Luna?" he asked with more than a little bit of annoyance as he looked up from his still-malfunctioning wand.

Seeing that she was pointing up at the sky, he followed her line of sight and then gasped. There were _two _moons hanging in the sky; one large, reddish-brown moon and a smaller grey moon much like the one he was familiar with.

"What... the..."

He gaped at the sky for several long seconds, feeling quite lost and confused. The more he looked, the more everything looked out of place. Astronomy had never been a great passion of his and his O.W.L.s had reflected that quite accurately, but even he could tell that _all of the stars were completely wrong._

But after a while, he had to shake himself back together.

Turning to Luna, who was looking around and eyeing their surroundings curiously, he spoke calmly. More to impress it upon himself that he needed to be calm than to reassure her, really. "Luna, we can't stay here. The warming charms won't last forever and we need to find some kind of shelter for the night."

She turned to look at him and nodded once, raising her hand to point. "I saw lights that way when we were falling. We might find a town there."

He nodded.

"It's worth a try. Was it very far away?" he asked, wondering how far they could walk through the knee-high snow in their dress robes.

"No, I don't think so."

Nodding twice, he started walking. "Let's go. Maybe we can sleep in a bed tonight and try and puzzle what happened tomorrow after a good night's sleep..."

She hummed in response, moving to follow in his tracks through the snow. His long hanging robes causing him to act much like a snowplough for Luna to follow.

With the sun already having set—he decided that it had, given how it was only getting darker and darker now—only the numerous stars and the twin moons above gave them any light to go by. Even compared to Hogwarts where the light pollution was minimal, this view of the night sky here was simply breathtaking. And it only further reinforced how alien this place was, as five years of Astronomy had not failed to impress upon him at least a dozen constellations. Of which he was now able to find not a one.

At least the fields of seemingly never-ending white snow illuminated the night enough for them to know where they were headed; the weak night lights reflecting enough for most of the terrain to be visible at least. He couldn't say for certain whether there were forests in the distance or just the shadows of looming hills. But at least he could see clearly the way that he knew he wasn't walking in circles.

Behind him, Luna walked quietly. Though he could hear the shifting and rustling of her dress robe, all but confirming that she was still gawking every-which-way just as he was.

"Do you think there might be Crumple-Horned Snorkacks here?" she suddenly asked, after they must have walked for at least half an hour. "Like in Sweden?"

He couldn't help himself; he let out a deep belly laugh. "You know, Luna? With our luck, we just might!"

* * *

Coming over the crest of the hill, Harry let out a long sigh of relief.

There _was_ a village up ahead, judging by the squat buildings up ahead. Warm, inviting lights were pooling out from small cracks and windows, at times barely strong enough to penetrate the thick mounds of snow piled everywhere. He couldn't see or hear anyone, but he supposed that only made sense given how late and cold it was. If he could help it, he wouldn't be outside either.

He could hear the ocean just beside the village and _feel _it too. The cold northern wind blowing inland and chilling him despite the warming charm. Already they had had to repeat it once, and he thought he could feel the second one starting to wane already as well.

"I can see it, Luna. It's just up ahead," he said as he turned around and collected his breath.

Despite the cold, he was soaked with sweat. With how high the snow on the ground was, walking was unexpectedly hard work. At least Luna didn't seem tired, that was something.

"Do you want another charm, Harry?" He shook his head. It would last them until the village, at least. "Are you thirsty?"

Furrowing his brows, he was about to say something but then realized that he was actually very parched. All of the sweat had stuck to his clothes, freezing them into near-solid sheets around his body where the warming charm didn't reach, which was less than comfortable.

"A little," he admitted.

Nodding seriously, she drew her wand. Then as he didn't react appropriately, she mimed for him to open his mouth. He blinked in confusion, only realizing a second later that she meant to spell the water directly into his mouth since they didn't have any cups or goblets. Flushing, he cleared his throat.

"Just don't get any on me, alright?"

She nodded again and spoke quietly, "_Aguamenti._"

Conjuring a weak stream that arc slightly, right into his mouth, she smiled with satisfaction. Even so, Harry felt very awkward. Getting his mouth full he pulled back and nodded at her with his cheeks bulging. Swallowing the water, he thanked her and turned around, thankful for the darkness that hid his flushed face.

Though his thirst had been nicely quenched at least.

She mirrored his actions, leaning her head back to drink as well.

"Come on, just a little bit more," he said as he started trudging once more.

As the closed in on the village, they soon found a stone-cobbled road that was leading into the village. The road seemed fairly well-travelled, with most of the stone and dirt upon it having being trampled and hardened enough to support their weights.

Harry shook his robes, trying to get most of the ice and snow out of the dark cloth, but soon gave it up as a useless effort. Even the scouring charm didn't seem to manage much and he had to give it up until they got somewhere inside and warm.

As they finally arrived at the edge of the village, Harry stared with rapt interest at the rugged wooden buildings. They were even simpler than most of the buildings in Hogsmeade, he thought. Very rustic, with their thick piled log walls and high arching hay roofs covered in snow. Just down the path into the village, he could see a harbour of some kind, with dozens of large boats tied down for the night

He didn't know much about boats, but he knew that those would use sails at least. Which was troubling him; he couldn't see any signs of electricity anywhere around them. Perhaps if this was a wizarding village that might not have been worrying, but the place had a very muggle feel about it, if he were very honest.

All of the buildings seemed much too practical and sensible for wizards.

"Look," Luna said as she walked up to the porch of the nearest building, the one that marked the very edge of the village it seemed. She pointed to a hanging sign, almost illegible in the darkness. "'_Windpeak Inn_', it says."

He grinned, jogging up to her to confirm what it said. "Brilliant, Luna!"

Leading the way he went for the front door. But even as he tried to pull at it, the door would not budge. After a moment of useless struggling which told him that it was not stuck or simply tight, but actually locked, he considered whether he ought to take out his wand.

But just then he heard a gruff man's voice from inside. "Who is it? We've closed for the night, already."

Harry blinked, looking back at Luna who was peering at the door with her brows slightly furrowed. The man inside spoke with an odd accent that Harry couldn't quite place and he wondered whether she did. Noticing his staring, she turned to look at him questioningly.

Clearing his throat as he figured she didn't have anything to say, Harry spoke.

"Please, sir. Could you let us come inside? We've walked an awful long way and we're very cold and tired..." He tried to make himself sound as pathetic and small as possible, hoping that it would help.

"Huh? Customers? Well, alright alright. Let me just open the door. But we already put away all the food for the night. You'll have to make do with just a warm bed for the night."

Harry made a silent fist pump as he grinned with relief. "Thank you, sir. That'll do nicely."

The door opened just a bit; enough for the warmth and light to pour out teasingly, followed by the waft of smoke and mouthwatering food and drink. The man's head peered out from behind the door, his shoulder-length light brown hair looking almost red with the glow of the embers behind him backlighting his figure.

Combined with his slightly haggard and worn appearance, as if he hadn't slept well in weeks, it was uncomfortably reminiscent of Filch for a moment. He looked at them, his eyes switching between the two of them suspiciously from head to toe. Harry noted that the man was wearing clothes made out of much rougher cloth; a simple long-sleeved shirt with an apron around his waist.

"Well, do you have coin for the night?"

That brought Harry up short. He realized that even if he had brought coins with him to the Christmas party, it probably wouldn't even serve him here, being wizarding currency. He turned to Luna, feeling very helpless right then and wondering what to do.

The innkeeper obviously noted his distress, coughing once as he opened the door a little bit more. "Where did you two even come from? The last ship today came hours ago..."

"We walked down that very nice road," Luna explained simply, motioning at the cobbled road down which they had just come. "Though I do wish I had worn better shoes..."

Frowning, both of the men stared down at her dress shoes. The polished dark leather still looking quite handsome, even as her long stockings were quite obviously completely wet.

"A good pair of dragonhide boots would have been nice."

"Dragonhide?" the innkeeper exclaimed with obvious confusion. "Hahaha, I would almost pay to see boots made out of a dragon's hide, girl!"

Harry let out a sigh of relief, as he realized Luna was having better luck with the man than he had.

"Are you two in trouble?" the innkeeper finally asked, eyeing them still quite intensely. Though now with less suspicion and more open curiosity.

"Oh yes," Luna immediately answered, even as Harry had been thinking, '_No, sir. No trouble at all._'

Seeing the once-more guarded look in the man's eyes, Harry almost wished he had managed to speak first.

"We're quite lost, tired, and wet, you see."

The innkeeper blinked at Luna's candor, then laughed quietly as he opened the door completely. "I see. Well, come on in then. My name is Thoring; I own the inn."

"Thank you, sir." Harry shook himself as he shed a few layers of half-frozen clothing as he entered the inn. "We'll make it up to you, I swear."

Thoring chuffed, almost amused by the words even as he continued to stare with open curiosity at their strange clothing. "Well, I won't give you any rooms if you can't pay. But I'll let you sleep by the fire. I can afford that much charity at least."

Harry blinked, biting back a reply and then nodding, not quite able to thank the man.

"I don't know what a pair like you are doing out so late, but I'll tell you this much; all the doors are locked and there's nothing valuable here, so don't try anything. We'll see about figuring out what to do with you two in the morning."

With that, the innkeeper turned and locked the outer door. Not only was there a large and rugged lock of black iron on the door, there was also a large beam placed across the door to keep it from opening inwards even if the lock was open. After that, the man retreated to another room further behind what seemed like a small counter at the end of the long hall.

Looking around, Harry noted that while it wasn't the great hall of Hogwarts it did seem comfortable enough at least. A long hall, with a large and long firepit running down the middle, with solid wooden benches and tables on both sides by the walls. The floor was cobbled stone as well, obviously made with a lot of care and effort as not a single stone seemed loose beneath his shoes, even if it was covered in sleet and dirty water.

No doubt from numerous customers coming and going during the day.

The ceiling was hay as he had suspected, supported by rugged wooden beams, though there was an obvious artistry and love of carpentry to be seen here as well. The building was old and worn, the wood faded and dry, but he decided it had earned its wear and tear.

"I guess we should sleep?" Harry finally ventured with a shrug.

Luna nodded, drawing her wand. He grimaced, placing a hand on her forearm before she had time to cast a spell. Leaning in, he whispered quietly. "I think they're muggles. We probably shouldn't use too much magic."

"Oh..." she replied with a wide-eyed stare of surprise. "Are you sure?"

He faltered for a bit but then nodded. "Better to be sure, right? Look, we can sleep next to the fire. The stones have dried the floor and you can borrow my over robe for the night. It shouldn't be too bad."

She looked at the floor next to the fire pit and nodded.

"Alright, Harry."

They shuffled around, looking for a place to lie on the floor. Harry thought about dragging a bench over but decided to give it up because they were too narrow to be comfortable anyhow. Finally, he relented and cast a whispered _scourgify _on the floor next to the fire pit.

Luna folded up his longcoat-like over robe and then settled down, wrinkling her nose in thought as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Harry settled to lie down next to her, not giving the matter too much thought as he was already dead tired by this point.

It wasn't until he had lain down and Luna quietly whispered, "Good night, Harry," that he realized how close they were. But by then he was too tired to get up and find another place to sleep.

"Good night, Luna."

* * *

It was warm and comfortable.

_She was lying on top of him._

He reached over, playing with her fiery hair. _She looked up at him and smiled, _reaching up to caress his own mess of hair. _Her lips drew closer and closer, coming to _kiss him. "Mm, Ginny..."

"Harry, I want to..." she began whispering to him quietly from his right.

"Yeah," he grinned, enjoying the tickle of her breath in his ears.

"..._Kiss _the dark lord."

"What."

The dream came to a stark contrast as he drew back, his furrowed brows almost touching one another as he tried to pull away from Ginny. The arms that had been draped around him so languidly morphed into something that was rather holding him down as Ginny rose up. And up. Towering above him, becoming as one with the dancing shadows and terrors just beyond his sight.

Playful fingers had turned into great sharp sickles, anchoring painfully in his skin. Tearing. Ripping.

"Gi_ve_ _y_ou_rs_elf _u_n_to m_e, _mortal_..."

Harry woke up with a startle, the scream dying in his throat as his eyes shot wide open. The unfamiliar ceiling above him was enough however, to silence any further sounds as his confusion took over. Where was he? What was that? Where was Ginny?

Hay ceiling. Greying wooden beams. Austere morning light pooling in through the cracks and opening by the ceiling. It was quiet, he realized as he raised his head slightly trying to get up. But his back was _aching_ from having to sleep on the bumpy cobbled stone floor.

And something was weighing his left side down. For a moment he felt an irrational thrill of hope that it was Ginny—before he remembered the whole of his strange nightmare and shook his head. It was only Luna, sleeping soundly while her head rested on his arm. She had curled herself up sometime during the night as the fire had died, he realized. Her bare arms balling underneath her body as she was leaning into him and his warmth.

There was a definite chill in the air, now that the fire had died down.

She almost looked like one of Mrs. Figgs cats lazing in the sunlight, he thought with a chuckle as he slowly began to extract himself.

The inn was silent and still if one ignored the more and less silent snoring one could hear from behind the various doors. Most of the customers must have still been asleep. He rubbed blearily at his eyes, realizing that he had a slight headache and that he was still quite tired.

He probably hadn't been able to sleep for too long.

There was a noise and his head snapped.

Harry stiffened as an unknown woman appeared out of the doorway that Thoring had gone to sleep behind. Wearing a simple green and white dress, she shook her head and set about at the counter, completely ignoring him and Luna.

"Good morning," Harry tried and the woman looked up. Not quite startled, but definitely not expecting someone else to be awake yet.

The woman looked around, peering at him and Luna by the fire pit, but said nothing as she noted that the outer door was still bolted shut. Giving him the cold shoulder, she turned around and continued with whatever she had been doing before.

Deciding that the woman was content to be quiet and ignore him, Harry shrugged and stood up. Dusting himself off with his hands and checking that he still had his wand, he set about stretching and rolling the kinks out of his shoulders, neck, and back.

But after what felt like an awkward eternity he couldn't help himself anymore. It was too reminiscent of the silences he had to endure back on Privet Drive. "Excuse me. Is there, umm, anything I can do to help?"

The woman looked at him strangely for a moment but then spoke with a shrug.

"Light the fire, if you can. There's firewood outside, under the eaves."

Harry nodded and moved to open the door, lifting aside the bar with ease but then coming short with the lock. Should he just use the unlocking charm, or...? Behind him the woman came with the key, opening the door without a word to him. He was starting to realize that his help wasn't so much unappreciated as that she simply didn't really care.

Was this the local equivalent of the bored teenage McDonalds worker?

Shaking his head and hiding his smirk, he opened the door and blinked back tears as the cold wind and bright light assaulted his senses. The sun was only starting to just rise, but already it was so bright that he felt like his eyes were searing. Closing the door behind him, Harry ambled around until he found a pile of gnarled firewood.

They weren't as short as the logs he was used to seeing in Hogwarts' fireplaces, but the fire pit was longer so he figured it made sense. Grabbing an armful, not caring about his clothes too much, he struggled to get it back inside through the much narrower doorway.

Sneaking carefully past the still sleeping Luna, he put the firewood all in the firepit. Not really sure what to do after that, since it wasn't lighting up, he looked around for the woman for more guidance. But she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Frowning slightly, he shrugged and drew out his wand after making sure he really was alone. Using his body as cover, just in case she did show up again, he whispered under his breath the word, "_Incendio._"

The cold wood resisted for a moment, but soon caught fire and began to crackle. He nodded with satisfaction, putting away the wand again carefully. Still, if they were around muggles and had to hide their magic, maybe he should try to cast spells non-verbally after all...

"I have three ideas for what happened, Harry."

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, jumping with surprise as he turned to face Luna.

"Oh, you're right. I haven't very many friends, you know. I did not remember that you're supposed to greet them good morning first. Daddy and I usually wake each other up with pancakes, which means that we're much too busy to talk in the mornings, you see..."

Harry blinked, utterly nonplussed for a good moment. He cleared his throat with a cough. "Good morning, Luna."

"Yes, good morning, Harry," she repeated dreamily with a smile.

"You, uh, had some ideas?" he asked warily.

"Oh, yes. First, since you mentioned the possibility before, we might very well be under attack."

He frowned. "Under attack? By who?"

"By the Wrackspurts, you see. It is possible very many of them had been trapped in the cabinet, and now we are simply lying there with our heads very, very fuzzy. Not able to tell apart reality from our dreams."

Harry licked his lips, looking around to see if anyone was listening. He wasn't sure how the local muggles might react to her talk if they were overheard. "That's... possible, I guess."

He couldn't really see any evidence to support that theory, but he had a slight idea about how to disprove it. Reaching down, he pinched the back of his own hand. It hurt.

Luna looked on with rapt attention, obviously curious.

"Ah, uh... It's something I saw on the muggle telly. If you think you're dreaming, you should pinch yourself. In a dream, it won't hurt. I think." He trailed off weakly, suddenly realizing how silly he sounded.

But she took it very seriously, repeating his actions with the same results. Then she began to look for something, which resulted in her frowning—or rather, pouting, he supposed. The idea of Luna frowning didn't quite mesh with his understanding of the world.

"I knew I should have brought along a quill and parchment. Daddy would love to know about how muggles fight back against the menace of the Quivering Shadedams..." she explained.

Harry didn't know what to make of that, so he only nodded stoically. "Right, well. What about the second idea?"

"Oh, we might be trapped in a bad dream. You see, the Ravenclaw's Diadem has been lost for centuries. It could easily be cursed and it could have already taken over our minds! We could be terrorizing Hogwarts at this moment. Or, our bodies anyhow."

He felt a shiver run up his spine as he looked at the old diadem still around Luna's elbow. He _had_ felt _something _when he had put it on. But it could have just been nothing. It wasn't as if it had actually taught him anything. He had just remembered things he had probably heard or seen before. Hermione had probably drilled into his subconscious mind the three D's, knowing that apparition classes were about to begin in a few weeks.

And he had apparated before, as a child, with accidental magic.

"Did, did you feel anything when you put it on before?" he asked cautiously.

"No," she shook her head, somewhat sadly. "Did you?"

"I, uh... Maybe. I think it might be the diadem you were talking about. I mean, I remembered things I had heard before, so I learned how to apparate with it, I guess. But, I don't know if it's cursed. I learned a little bit of mind magic last year. Not much, you know. Just a little. And I think I've had enough visions to recognize one by now."

He realized he was rambling, so he stopped.

Luna only nodded, all too serious, looking as if she wished she had her quill with her as she held the diadem in her hands.

"And, pinching hurts," she added with a happy expression. "I'm glad the diadem isn't cursed." Then, with a more quiet tone, she added, "Even if it doesn't work for me..."

She didn't seem very despondent, rather only slightly miffed that it wasn't working for her when it had for him before. Maybe.

"Right, uh. Yeah. So, what's the last idea you had?" Harry asked, somehow already feeling better. Somehow talking with Luna seemed to do that, since her ideas were so out there that he had to step back and wonder whether he was actually dreaming.

"Oh, we might be in another world."

Well. That made all too much sense for him.

"You think so? I mean, does that happen often when wizards apparate?" he asked.

"Oh no... At least I don't think so. The Quibbler has never had any issues regarding other worlds. But there were two moons, so it seems very straightforward."

Harry sighed. "It does, doesn't it?" He shook his head, then. "Well, it doesn't matter much, right now. I mean, I don't know about you but I'm hungry—"

"—Oh, I'm _raven_ous—" Luna interjected, seeming inordinately pleased with herself for some reason.

"—and we have no money. So, that's a problem," he finished.

She blinked, tilting her head as she realized he was right. Then she leaned in with a more sombre expression on her face. "The book '_Easy Spells to Fool Muggles_' says that we can use the Confundus charm in situations like these..."

He grimaced, vaguely remembering the book. He had read it in his third year if his memory served him correctly. Back then he had laughed at the idea of confunding someone, but now...

"I don't think I would feel right, doing something like that," he admitted.

She didn't say anything, only looking at him with an honest expression of curiosity.

"I mean, it seems a bit..._ mean_, to just spell someone, especially after he did offer us a place to sleep out of the cold. Even if it was just on the floor. It had been warm and dry, which was all they really needed.

She nodded with a smile, not challenging or agreeing with his statement either way.

"Besides, I think I could work to get us enough money. I mean, at least in the short term." He thought back to all the things he had done back with the Dursley's. He had plenty of skills, even if he wasn't sure quite how many of them would be useful here and how much money they would be worth. Looking back at Luna, still wearing her silver dress and pretty shoes, with her slender arms bare to the chill, he made up his mind. "You won't have to work, not while we're hiding our magic. I've done a lot of things like this before, Luna."

He tried to puff up his chest to look dependable and certain, but her curious tilt of head slightly deflated him of his efforts.

"Well... I don't think we should stick around much longer. We aren't paying customers, so Thoring probably doesn't appreciate us just standing around," Harry joked, thinking back to how Vernon had often ranted about people doing just that.

"I would like to explore the rest of the village," Luna exclaimed with a nod.

That decided, he turned to the woman now at the counter and raised his voice to be heard over the fire, though not shouting as he had no wish to wake up any of the still sleeping customers.

"We'll be leaving now, thank you for all the help, ma'am."

The women looked up, apparently with little interest in him and Luna, only nodding once before going back to whatever it was she was doing.

Looking at Luna and shrugging, they ventured back out into the cold. He shivered, before looking around to make sure there was no one around. With a quick pair of flicks from his wand, they both had warming charms again, which Luna thanked him for. Noticing their dirty clothing and how mucked his over robe had become, he also used a pair of scouring charms. It paid to look neat, Vernon had always exclaimed, so it was probably better if they didn't look as if they had had to walk several miles through the snow to get here.

Even if they had.

"Longboats," Luna said, peering out at the harbor where there were already dozens of large men working. Most of them did not seem to be wearing anywhere near enough clothing for the cold weather, but perhaps the hard work was keeping them warm as they moved crates and barrels to and from various boats without tarrying about.

"Longboat?" he repeated dumbly, turning to look at her quizzically.

"Oh, yes. They're long boats. With large square sails and many oars. And shields."

He frowned. Weren't those viking ships? "They look too... _squat_, I think. Too wide."

"Do you think so?" she asked.

"Well... I don't know. I haven't ever seen one before," he admitted. "Well, maybe we should look for a store for now. I think we should focus on breakfast," his stomach interrupting him to growl at just that moment for emphasis, which made Luna titter with amusement. "And more clothes. Or other clothes anyhow. We're sticking out like sore thumbs right now."

Already some of the locals who were waking up were giving them weird looks, though none seemed hostile or really bothered. It seemed to be mostly men walking about, all wearing rough spun shirts and ambling through the town towards the other edge, away from the inn and the harbour.

But speaking of clothes gave him an idea. "Maybe we should sell our clothes? Look at the locals, our clothes are of a lot higher quality. We could probably afford food and warmer clothes if we did!" Feeling excited about his idea, he began looking around for a store of some kind, completely missing the flash of hesitation on Luna's face. "Come on, there's probably some kind of, I don't know, general store around here somewhere."

They could probably get more money for the silver diadem, but he was sure Luna wouldn't want to part with it, so he didn't even suggest it.

"Alright, Harry." Luna nodded, her usual dreamy expression having returned.

They looked around but found nothing quite fitting eithers' expectations. The closest thing they found, was an outdoor smithy next to an otherwise seemingly ordinary house, but it was still cold and unmanned.

But at least their tour of the village had gotten them mostly familiarized with it now. Unfortunately, however, there didn't seem to be much to see. There were probably half a hundred squat wooden buildings, but few were even half the size of the Windpeak Inn. There seemed to be another Inn down by the docks, but it looked even rougher and neither felt any need to explore the house further.

They did find a very large building at the southern end of the village, as far from the water as possible, which they found out was apparently the Jarl's hall, if the heavily armed guard was to be believed. And next to the impressive White Hall was the guard barracks, where another dozen heavily armed men seemed to be getting ready for the day.

They wore large, face-concealing helmets and shirts of interlocking iron rings, over which they had some sort of leather quilting and a long grey cloth marked with the town's symbol; a pointy star. On their arms and legs, they had leather boots and gloves, with warm-looking fur lining sticking out at the ends. Carrying either swords, maces or axes and a large round shield painted with the same four-pointed star, they drew a rather intimidating figure.

"No lolly-gagging, move along."

Apparently they didn't like being stared at, either.

"Erm sorry, sir."

They continued their exploration, now aware of the beady eyes behind the helmets staring at them.

After that, they found where all the men were going earlier in the morning. A mine; a dark hole in the side of a hill, with men coming in and out at a constant rate. Outside, dozens more were working with large clay mounds, keeping raging fires going as they feed them with coal and raw minerals.

"What are they doing...?" Luna asked curiously, apparently never having seen its like.

"They're miners, I think."

"Are they? With beards like that?" She seemed astonished and he wasn't sure what to say to that. "Bearded minors, I must tell daddy later..."

Shaking his head, he ignored her.

He saw dozens of pick-axes and shovels, piles and piles of black coal along with rows upon rows of metallic balls of various shapes and sizes. He wasn't really sure _how_ mining worked, but he was fairly certain they were digging and extracting metals from the earth.

There were also men just standing around and barking orders, while others were heatedly discussing with men who looked more like the dockworkers, all while guards occasionally patrolled the area.

"I guess they trade metal by sea, or something." It didn't seem very profitable, given how rustic the village appeared, but it was a living. Still, nearly everyone looked exhausted and drawn, with tempers flaring often and loudly even during the short while they observed them.

They kept their distance and returned to the town, still looking for a store. Walking back, Harry could hear the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil—or what he was fairly certain was the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil, as he had never heard the sound before—and he perked up at the realization that the smith was probably up and about by now.

Luna followed his lead as he half-ran the way back to the smithy.

There, a muscular man with long white hair was working by the furnace, starting a fire and preparing his tools for the day it seemed. The smith looked up, pausing with obvious confusion at their approach. His wary eyes took them in from head to toe, before finally cautiously greeting them.

"Hello there...?"

"Good morning, sir," Harry began, before realizing that he didn't exactly know what he wanted to say. Frowning in slight consternation, he tried to think of what to say.

It wasn't exactly as if blacksmiths dealt in clothing.

"You two come down from Solitude, eh?"

"Solitude?" Luna repeated.

"Well, it was just a guess. Never seen clothes like those before, but I've heard there's plenty of fine things up in the capital. What with the trade from Cyrodiil and High Rock coming in." The smith huffed, tending to the fire in his forge as he spoke. "We don't get much of those here in Dawnstar. Nothing here but fish and the iron mines, heh."

"We were looking for a general store, but we haven't been able to find one. Would you happen to know where we could buy some more... Uh, local, clothes?"

"Ahahah, sorry about that. We don't really have anything like that here. The local wives buy rolls of cloth wholesale sometimes when a trade ship comes to port, on their way to Windhelm or back... But doubt you'll find anything like that here. Closest clothing store I've heard of would be in Solitude, again."

The smith had an easy way about himself, laughing now in a relaxed manner as he spoke.

"Then, how would one go about acquiring work around here?" Harry asked with a slight frown. So far things weren't looking up, even if he was acquiring a lot of information from the smith.

"Work...?" The smith asked again, eyeing him and Luna now with a more curious mind. "You two wouldn't happen to be eloping now, would you?"

At Harry's gobsmacked expression, the smith laughed.

"I know all about that—me and my wife had to hop on a ship and we eventually ended up here, setting up shop serving the guard and miners. Always plenty of pickaxes to beat back into shape after every day. Enough at least to keep me and the wifey fed."

Harry laughed, even as he glanced at Luna and wondered about the misunderstanding that had sprung up. "I'm Harry, and this is Luna. We don't really have any money, and I'm not sure how exactly we'll manage our next meal to be honest. I had been hoping to sell off some of our clothing, but that might not work out after all..."

"My name is Rustleif," the smith answered with a nod. "You could try selling with one of the traders in port. They might have the coin to go for those clothes you are wearing. But they'll drive a hard bargain, so don't go in expecting an easy deal."

Harry nodded seriously.

"But for long-term work, this might not be the town for you. How are you with a pick-axe?" He shook his head, looking at Luna who seemed more curious than anything. Rustleif continued amicably nonetheless, "Well, there's always work for a coal shoveler or a porter. Always ships to coming and going, needing strong backs and arms. Not very good coin in it though, I'm afraid, and hard work too."

Vernon had made as much clear to Harry before; physical labour was cheap and plentiful in the muggle world.

"There's always wood in need of chopping. Ever worked with an axe?"

Another shake of heads, as this time Luna too seemed certain.

"Hammer, then?" At their answer, Rustleif chuckled. "Good. No need for me to worry about competition. How's about your sword arm?"

Harry perked up slightly at that, but then shrugged. "Err, haven't used one in years, to be honest."

Luna looked curious about that as well, turning to look at him with wide eyes. But she didn't ask.

"Well, the guard is fairly picky so you'd be hard-pressed to get in. Mostly families with ties to the Jarl manage them. Thanes and the like, you know?"

Harry nodded, even if he didn't really know what a Thane was. But it sounded familiar to how Vernon would bring in co-workers and colleagues to dinners to butter them up. It really was all about connections wherever you went in the world, regardless of which world you were in.

"Then, know anything about potions? Frida over at the Mortar and Pestle is always asking around for ingredients. Sometimes, her stamina potions are all that keep the mines running," Rustleif explained with a light laugh, which slowly died out. "Like right now. You might not have realized, but you've arrived at a rather poor time. Folks are pretty tired and on edge, so don't go poking your heads anywhere you might not be wanted, you hear me? It's best for everyone if you don't."

They could only nod, having noticed how on-edge the miners had seemed.

"Anyhow, I mentioned potions. You think that could work out for you?"

"Harry is quite an accomplished brewer. He received an Exceeding Expectations in his O.W.L.s., after all," Luna stated with full confidence in Harry, who was now squirming slightly. He had never had any great love for potions, thanks in no small part due to Snape.

Rustleif, obviously knowing nothing of the subject but understanding that it must be somewhat impressive, nodded with understanding. Still, he had to ask, "What do owls have to do with it?"

"Oh, it stands for Ordinary Wizarding Levels," Luna once again explained even as Harry felt his heart jumping up into his throat.

Rustleif blinked, before shrugging. "Don't know what that is, but well, you two should probably try talking with Frida anyhow and see if you can't work something out. Her shop is across from here, on the other side of the bay."

Saying that he pointed towards the docks and the rows of buildings behind them.

"Thank you," Harry said politely, already wishing to retreat from the conversation. "We'll try doing just that."

Luna also made her thanks and they began walking away.

"Didn't we agree to keep our magic hidden from the muggles, Luna?" he whispered to her with more than a little venom, once they had walked out of the immediate vicinity.

"There might not _be_ any magic here, Harry," she said airily, causing him to stumble suddenly in his step.

"What?"

She paused, turning around to face him. "Well, he didn't know what a wizard was. Perhaps they don't have magic here. It is another world, after all."

"...Huh. I hadn't thought of that," he said finally, his earlier temper flare all but gone. "But then, how would they have potions?"

"Curious, isn't it?" She smiled, turning around began skipping forward with much more cheer than she had had before.

They found the potion shop—_The Mortar and Pestle_—quickly enough. It even had a sign hanging outside and everything. Finding the door unlocked, they knocked and entered. The warmth of the roaring fireplace right in front of them hit them like a tangible wave and they quickly closed the door behind them to keep the heat from escaping.

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness of the inside quickly enough, the light of the fireplace doing much to help with the effort.

To the left from the entrance was a stairway leading to a second floor, while to the right there was a counter behind which an elderly lady—Frida, they presumed—was standing with a smile that showed the deep creases and wrinkles in her skin. She wore a simple dress, made with the same cloth and cut as most of the other garments the people in town wore, and she had a warm, furry hat on her head. All around them were cupboards and shelves, filled with glass bottles and various ingredients, none of which either could immediately recognize.

"The Mortar and Pestle makes potions, if you couldn't tell from the name. Just step up to the counter, dearies." The wrinkled smile was warm and inviting, and before Harry knew it he was standing just there. "The Mortar and Pestle has cures for every illness, from Ataxia to Witbane," she said in a manner which spoke of decades of repetition.

Probably her business slogan, then.

"Uhm, hello ma'am," Harry began as he nodded, not quite sure where to start.

"Are you a witch?" Luna asked without preamble, eliciting a hearty laugh from the old woman.

"Oh, no no, dearie. Nothing quite like that. I'm just an old alchemist, nothing more."

"I see, thank you for telling me." Luna nodded and gave a small curtsy of thanks, which seemed to further charm the old woman.

Harry cleared his throat, figuring it was his turn to try asking. "We were asking around town for work, and Rustleif the smith said that we might ask you..." He hesitated however in explaining why, as he had realized it was possible that his potions experience would be very much useless here. Hadn't she called herself an alchemist, just now? "My name is Harry and this is Luna. We've sort of stumbled into town yesterday, you see?"

"Oh my, is that right? Rustleif did?" She seemed slightly surprised. "Well, unless you have ingredients to sell, I'm afraid there isn't much work I can offer you."

Harry nodded, considering that. He did have several years' worth of experience with herbology and care for magical creatures, and while it might not directly correlate with anything in this world, it might still be useful. Looking at Luna, he knew she had both subjects as well—still remembering with some irritation how she had criticized Hagrid in his fifth year when they had first met.

"We could probably find those ingredients for you. if you are very busy brewing, I mean."

"Oh, could you...?" Frida looked at them a bit sceptically, finding their apparel to be at odds with their words. "Well... I am always running low on ingredients for stamina restoratives."

Harry nodded, hiding his grimace best he could. He vaguely remembered the Invigoration Draught, but the hundreds of hours spent down in the potions classroom really all blended together far too much for him to have any shot at remembering how to brew one without a recipe.

And on top of that, he was fairly certain it wasn't the potion she was talking about.

"Oh, you mean powdered horns and antlers, and coca leaves?" Luna chirped curious.

"Ah... Coca leaves?" Frida asked. Even he had to turn and stare at Luna now, wondering whether she was mistakenly talking about lemonade now.

"Oh, yes. You chew them, though they make your mouth tingle and head swim if you aren't used to them."

The elderly woman nodded seriously. "Oh yes, that sounds very much like a primary ingredient. No doubt many use it through consumption for just that. But ho humm... Dizziness and tingling of the mouth? Would that indicate paralytic properties, or perhaps analgesic...?"

Harry blinked as he realized he had once again utterly lost track of the conversation. Clearing his throat once, he urged them to return to the topic.

"I have never encountered anything quite fitting your description of a coca leaf, but yes, large antlers will do very well for a potion. As will hawk beaks, sabre cat teeth and mudcrab chitin. I would prefer to not buy any bear claws, as I have never found them very effective. But my husband—bless his soul—quite liked them. Said they made him feel ten years younger and strong like a bear, himself!" Frida explained, obviously quite happy for the chance to talk. With a wistful shake of her head and a longing stare towards a spot by the fireplace, she moved on. "One more thing; I have more than enough histcarps for now. The fishermen rarely come back without a barrel or two, you see. So I can't buy it for a very good price, if you bring it back."

Harry nodded, already trying to think where he might be able to find any of the creatures she had mentioned. They hadn't seen any since their arrival and he didn't have very much experience with hunting—childhood 'games' aside—which meant that it probably wouldn't be very easy to find some.

"Well be back once we've found some," he said and turned to Luna, checking to see whether she still wanted anything more.

"Goodbye," the Ravenclaw said with a small curtsy before smiling at Harry.

Exiting the Pestle and Mortar, they both blinked against the cold wind and searing brightness of the outside. Distantly, he noticed that several of the ships that had been in port were now gone, presumably sailing on their next destination with the morning winds.

Their stomachs growled as one then, informing both just how hungry they were starting to grow. Years of scheduled meals had well-trained their bellies to expect sustenance at very specific times.

"It's right around eleven, d'ya reckon?" he asked with a wry grin, feeling more sorry for himself than anything else.

"It does feel like lunch time, yes." Luna nodded, appearing nearly as miserable as he felt. They had been walking around for quite a few hours now and with little in the way of progress to show for it. She turned to look at him then, sporting an unusually serious mien. "Harry, do you think you can catch one of the creatures she mentioned?"

He shrugged.

"It's not so much that, as _finding _them, I think."

Her eyebrows rose very dramatically as she realized that, nodding at his words. Pondering that quandary, they stood at the waterfront quietly for several long minutes.

"Could you summon one, perhaps?"

Turning to look at Luna, he raised an eyebrow. "I can't summon living beings, Luna."

"Oh... I only thought your summoning charm against the dragon was very impressive, is all," she explained, scrunching her nose and looking unperturbed by the roadblock.

"Well... It couldn't hurt to _try_, right?" he said as he began to look around. They would need some privacy if he wanted to use his wand. "Come on, let's try over there behind the cliffs."

She looked at where he was pointing and nodded. Just beyond the edge of the village, following the beach out until they were finally unable to see the village.

With the constant ebb and flow of the waves, there was very little snow or ice on top of the beach, allowing them to walk fairly quickly for once.

"Alright. Luna, you keep an eye out for anything," Harry said as he drew his wand.

"Anything?" she asked, excitedly.

"Erm, well, I mean for flying sabre cats or patrolling guards who could see us. Not _anything, _anything."

"Oh." She deflated slightly. Drawing her own wand, she turned to look back the way they had come. "Alright, Harry."

He nodded, now feeling slightly nervous all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, he performed the wand motion and spoke, "_Accio Sabre Cat!_"

And then he fell into a ready stance, eyeing their surroundings warily. He hadn't felt anything, but he didn't exactly want to be caught unawares _if_ a flying Sabre Cat ended up falling on top of him. After a minute, he finally relaxed.

"Okay, that didn't work." What else had Frida mentioned? He tried again, slightly less confidently now. "_Accio... Moose?_"

But once again, nothing. Trying again for reindeer, hawks and eagles did not net any successes either, leaving him to slump with disappointment. Even if he had been fairly certain it wouldn't work, he still felt annoyed now that he had actually tried.

"May I try, Harry?" Luna asked, sounding quite certain that she had what it took.

Gesturing for her to go ahead, he crossed his arms.

She nodded, raising her wand as she closed her eyes with intense concentration. He realized that she was trying to picture what she was going to be summoning, something that was important with the charm. His Firebolt had already been intensely familiar to him back in his fourth year, a key factor in his success against the dragon.

Opening her eyes, she flicked her wand and cried out, much louder than he had; "_Accio Crumple-Horned Snorkack!_"

Harry blinked, feeling his jaw fall open.

"Oh phooey..." Luna complained when the result remained unchanged.

Sighing, Harry shook his head. At least they hadn't wasted too much time on this, he thought bitterly as the hollowness of his stomach intruded his mind again. He knew he was still fine—years of having to eat at the Dursley table having taught him enough about starving and hunger to knew when he was really in danger—but he also knew that his mood would only keep getting worse until he got something in his belly.

"You forgot one, Harry."

Luna's voice broke him out of his funk and he frowned at her. "What?"

"The mudcrabs, Harry. You haven't tried them yet."

Shaking his head and making a frustrated grunt, he waved his wand haphazardly as he grunted, "_Accio mudcrab._"

He almost jumped out of his skin with fright as suddenly a massive splash erupted from the sea. He saw something flying towards them at breakneck speeds and his reflexes kicked into overdrive. "_STUPEFY!_"

The red bolt struck the dark object in mid-air as he jumped out of its way. It barrelled past him and slammed into the beach, kicking up countless small smooth pebbles and making a strange, hollow sound on impact.

Luna squeaked. Or perhaps squealed. Harry couldn't quite tell with how fast and hard his heart was beating. He stared with wide eyes at the absolutely _massive_ crab that now lay half-buried in the beach. It was dark, with two large pincers and many small legs. But the most notable thing about the crab was just how much its shell looked like nothing more than an ordinary rock.

"That's... a bloody big crab," Harry finally said.

"You did it!" Luna replied happily.

"Yeah, I guess I—" he said to reply as he turned to look at her, only to freeze at the overwhelming smile on her face. It's intensity enough to insert colour into the world around her, making her cold-flushed cheeks stand out.

Harry blinked, shaking his head to break himself out of his stupor as he realized he had forgotten what he had been about to say.

"Let's take it back. Frida will want this, I'm sure!"

It took both of them to carry it, as they couldn't levitate it back. They each bundled two or more feet on either side and then awkwardly walked the way back, setting it down only long enough to knock on the door to the Pestle and Mortar.

Frida did not seem to share their awe at the crab's size—something which Harry took to mean that there could be even _bigger_ crabs in the water, renewing his interest in steering well clear of the sea—but she did seem quite surprised at the condition of its shell once they brought it inside.

"Not a single mark. Remarkable. It's almost as if it's sleeping."

"Ah, yeah. It isn't dead. Not exactly, anyhow," Harry explained lamely.

Frida only nodded, raising the mudcrab with one hand and drawing a large knife from her belt with the other. Then, with one decisive thrust of knife and shudder of shell, she had killed it.

"Wonderful, dearies. This will keep me stocked for the rest of the month at least!" She wiped the blade clean before putting it back. Then, she stood up gingerly and smiled at them. "Would you two like to stay for a late lunch? I haven't had steamed mudcrab legs in years and there's plenty to go around."

Harry and Luna looked at each other only for a second before they were both nodding excitedly. Thus was how they found themselves sitting around a small table an hour later, feasting on melted butter and succulent crab meat.

They could both sworn it was the most delicious meal they had eaten in their whole lives.

* * *

**After writing some of things I have before this, it's quite refreshing to write a hot-headed dumbass with a sparkly stick. ****Harry isn't very complex, it feels like. It feels relaxing to write about him struggling to even feed himself, when I've had to wrestle with the ball of utter self-loathing and -delusion that is _EMIYA_.**

**Really the challenge here is Luna. I like Luna. I really like Luna. _Really _like Luna. And I don't really know _why. _See, she only has like what, less than 10 scenes in canon HP? So that's not very much. So I figured maybe it was from fanfics. But no, it isn't. They're pretty much all dogshit. At least the ones I found or remembered anyhow. Maybe I just have a crush on Evanna Lynch.**

**Anyhow, I'm trying to write Luna now. We'll see how that goes lmao**

**Also, towns will be bigger than in Skyrim(going by the microcosm idea), but their general layout and feel will still reflect the game. (Thought about playing the Dawnstar mobile game before writing, but decided that I didn't care enough. Same with ESO, really.)**


	3. Field Dress

Harry rolled the unfamiliar coin in his hand, running his finger alternatively over the dragon emblem and the face of the emperor. No denominations of worth or any excess writing was emblazoned upon the coin, not like in muggle money.

It wasn't altogether too different from wizarding money, something he was quite familiar with. Perhaps even more so than muggle money. It, and the thirty-one other coins just like it now in his and Luna's pockets were the first of their kind that they had earned. It felt different from any other money he had had before. Not physically per se, but rather in something less tangible. It felt heavier and he felt much more mindful of each coin clinking on his person now. Before the loss of one or two galleons would be an annoyance, but he wouldn't have minded it after a few hours.

But now, he knew, that he had to make every septim count.

It wasn't as if they could simply go out and catch another mudcrab for another thirty or so coins. It was like chores back at the Dursleys; you could only paint the fence once and mow the lawn so many times a summer. After that, they were done; no more money to be made. Of course, he hadn't been paid for _that_. But he understood that principle here and now.

Frida had immediately set to work on the mudcrab chitin once she had gotten her hands on it, stringing it up to drain its blood while she started cooking its meat. And as they had left the store she had set about with a hammer and dagger to crack apart the mudcrab. The snap and pop of the chitin had made him slightly nauseous, encouraging him to bid farewell at once.

Simply put, there were only so many mudcrabs Frida could buy from them. Not only in how much work she could accomplish as he had realized but in how much money she had on hand that she could spend on ingredients. She too only had so many people willing to buy her finished potions.

"She wasn't a witch," Luna suddenly said, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"Frida makes potions, but she isn't a witch. It's quite curious." Harry frowned at her words, still not quite following her train of thought. He was already sullenly half-expecting Hermione to begin lecturing him about why that was curious, until he realized that Hermione wasn't here.

Not noticing Harry's change of mood, Luna continued walking.

Shaking his head, he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he asked, "Why is that curious?"

Luna stopped, turning to look at him with a surprised expression so great that her eyebrows seemed to vanish beneath her blonde bang. "You mean you haven't heard, Harry?"

"Erm... No?"

She walked up to him, lowering her voice as if she was worried someone would overhear them on the empty dirt road. "It's all a part of the Rotfang Conspiracy."

"...The one with the Aurors, and the uh, gums?" Already regretting having asked.

Nevertheless, she beamed at him, nodding vigorously.

"Yes! Daddy thinks that it's a plot to—among other, many other, things—to ensure that muggles _and_ squibs can't brew potions. That way, only witches and wizards can, allowing the ministry to tighten its grip on everyone!"

Harry ignored the most of what Luna had just said, homing in on what he realized Luna had been saying all along. "Oh, right..." Muggles and squibs _couldn't _brew potions. "But, she said she was an alchemist. And I didn't recognize anything in her shop. I mean, she had a cauldron but that only had stew in it."

It was Luna's turn to be brought up short as she blinked, her silvery eyes wide for a moment.

He shook his head, deciding to ignore all of that for a moment. "It's a different world anyhow, Luna. We shouldn't be assuming anything, I guess."

It seemed obvious now that he had said it, even as he realized he hadn't been quite thinking like that up till now. Shaking his head, he focused back on the matter of money. He knew he had some now, but he didn't quite know what it would buy them. Wondering for a moment whether there existed a spell for finding the exchange rate of currencies, he felt another pang of longing for Hermione's encyclopedic reliability.

"Hey there!"

The sound of shouting up ahead made them both look and they saw Rustleif, the smith, waving at them.

Walking up to him, they could see that the blazing forge and the hours of work had made him work up quite a sweat. But he greeted them again with obvious cheer nonetheless.

"Did it work out? With Frida, I mean?"

Harry nodded, a slight smile on his face. "We sold her some ingredients, so we now have a bit of money."

"That's great. Listen, one of the merchants in dock sent a sailor to buy some nails not too long ago. They're here for the iron and will be here until tomorrow morning at least, and I asked them about whether they would be interested in buying clothes." Rustleif set down his hammer and the curved head of a pick-axe, reaching for a jug and taking a long drink before he continued. "And they said there might be someone interested there. You might want to go and talk to them about it."

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed, grinning now as he turned to Luna.

"...Yes," she said with a subdued nod.

Rustleif laughed, quite pleased to be able to help them. Pointing to the ships, he motioned for one in particular. "It's the ship docked right over there, ask for the captain and see what he has to say."

"Alright. Thank you, sir."

"Haha, don't mention it."

Harry almost ran off right then and there, but halted for just a moment as he remembered something. "Ah, sir. May I ask you a question?"

The smith blinked, nodding immediately. "Sure, go ahead."

"Do you know how much a night at the Windpeak Inn costs?" Harry asked. Given that they didn't have any place to stay, he would have to base their expenses on that.

"A night?" Rustleif looked curious. "Ah, well Thoring rents out rooms for ten septims a day, as I recall. Meals not included. Don't know the prices of those—Seren doesn't like it when I eat anyone else's cooking hahah—but I can tell you how much the mead costs, if you want?"

Shaking his head at the offer, Harry thanked him once more before he left. Luna followed him quietly, two steps behind him as he was deep in thought. He hadn't actually seen the rooms at the Inn yet, but he was fairly certain they would need two.

He glanced at Luna surreptitiously, only to immediately look straight ahead as she serenely met his gaze.

Definitely two rooms.

Luckily this morning hadn't been awkward since he had woken up before her, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable through repeat performances. That left them only with 10 septims for dinner.

And they still needed new clothes, even if they couldn't sell what they were wearing. They were getting strange looks wherever they went and sooner or later it would become a problem. He had seen enough witches and wizards stumbling around in the muggle world to know how much standing out could be a problem.

But for that they needed money.

* * *

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Harry asked confusion and irritation warring for supremacy in his voice.

The merchant captain sneered, looking him from head to toe again as he did so. "I do not recognize the cloth as anything valuable and the cut and style make it all but worthless. I doubt finding a buyer for it would be worth the time. So, no, I've no interest in your apparel."

Harry scowled, trying to figure out how to tell this git that his dress robes had been worth a good galleon and had several useful charms for maintaining their quality. But in his excited state, he found himself unable to think of how to say such a thing without revealing his magical background.

But they _needed _the money.

He knows his robes were worth it; could he confound the merchant to understand that? Suppressing that idea with the irritation that had spawned it, Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, feeling his irritation grow at the slightly-greasier-than-usual feel of it and the tangled knots at the ends catching his fingers.

He hadn't had a chance to wash up properly in days.

The merchant said nothing, eyeing him with decidedly bored eyes as if he had nothing better to do than to lounge about by the docks even though mere moments earlier the man had been adamant about not having any time to waste on them.

"Then, what about this dress?" Luna finally queried quietly, having remained silently behind him until now, performing a small spinning curtsy that made the hem of her dress flutter about. Her eyes weren't looking at either of them, rather they were locked tightly onto her hand and the fingers which were slowly rubbing together a folder section of the cloth at her waist.

The man's eyes glimmered and he shot back an answer immediately. "One hundred drakes."

It had been quick. Much too quick. As if he had been thinking about that the whole time.

Harry realized that he had been waiting for just that. Not wanting to appear too interested in her dress, even keeping his eyes solely focused on him until _they_ brought it up.

Luna sighed, before nodding and looking up. She spoke calmly, "Very—"

"No deal," Harry interrupted Luna quickly, shooting back a glance.

She seemed slightly surprised, gazing at him with wide eyes that reminded him once again of just large her eyes sometimes seemed. "But Harry," she began again.

But he turned to look at the merchant captain, seeing just a flicker of consternation and irritation in the man's sky-blue eyes before they were a smooth and cold as marbles again.

Harry felt a rush of vicious pleasure at that, realizing that they had almost been had and that he hadn't missed it.

"You've never seen anything like it and you'll never see another one anywhere near its like," he explained adopting a decidedly smug tone. "500 septims."

The captain grimaced.

"For that kind of money, I could visit a tailor for a dress made out of silver for myself."

Internally Harry couldn't help but hesitate, turning back to look at Luna again. She eyed him serenely, nodding slightly at him. Jutting his jaw a little bit forward, he thought out the first argument he could think of. What did he say to that? Five hundred _did _sound like a lot of money.

Would he pay that much for it, were their roles reversed?

Luna wasn't any help either, her intense eyes distinctly avoiding looking at the merchant captain. Looking at her immediately made him think of something; a quip that he was sure he could have heard her say; the kind of flippant, on-the-nose comment that would leave everyone else flabbergasted.

"And who would want to wear a dress that heavy?" He said, affecting the innocent inquisitiveness that he had come to associate with Luna's more poignant comments, almost as if not speaking himself but allowing her to speak through him for a moment. Then, he shook his head, his own self reasserting itself in support of the comment made. "No, what you want is _this_. The first rich young lady who sees it—who can touch this fabric and realize how _unique _and incredible it is, will pay you back twice over for what you pay us."

He put on his most confident grin, leaning back on his heels and letting the merchant stew on his words.

Finally, after a grumble the man spoke. "Fine, _200 _septims."

"400, and _that's_ final," Harry replied immediately.

Another few seconds of grumbling and finally the merchant captain agreed.

Of course, that was when Harry remembered that Luna didn't have anything else to wear. And worse yet, he could hear the sound of rustling clothes behind him. His eyes bulged as the man in front of him raised an eyebrow, suddenly reminding Harry very much of Snape.

Hesitantly, he turned around. And blinked.

Luna had wrapped his over-robe around herself, closing it at the front like a bathrobe as she got out of her dress right then and there, apparently not minding the cold or glances very much. She looked up and their eyes met. He hastily turned around, offering the stony-faced captain a smile to hide his own confusion and embarrassment.

He exchanged another set of glances with the captain.

Somehow _he _now felt like the bad guy here.

"I'll... just go and fetch the coin, then..."

Dress and a large bag of clinking coins exchanged hands and they left quickly, accompanied by the curious gazes of dozens who had watched the exchange happen. Noticing several grins around him, Harry glowered at them which only seemed to set them laughing. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he turned around to look at Luna.

Only to realize that now only wearing his over robe around herself, it left her bare legs starkly visible beneath its dark hem, giving tantalizing flashes of inner thigh with every step she took.

He flushed, turning away hotly.

As they left the docks, Harry couldn't help himself as he turned to Luna who was following him, still as serene as ever. "Sorry Luna, I shouldn't have..." He trailed off, his eyes catching glimpses of bare skin and he had to look away again. "I didn't think this through very well, did I? Now you don't have any clothes, and, and..."

"It's alright. I'm very good at transfiguring clothes, you know."

He blinked and turned to look at her. "Oh. _Oh_." His mind went back to the end of last year, how she had told him that she tended to lose her things in Hogwarts and he tried not to think about it too hard. "Still, I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new dress when we get back to make it up to you."

"Oh, that's quite alright, Harry." Luna shook her head, her eyes turning slightly downcast. "That was my mother's dress, it can't be replaced."

"..._Oh_."

Suddenly he very much felt like dirt, the clinking sound of coins weighing much more heavily on his belt.

* * *

"Hello again, sir."

Thoring looked up, nodding at Harry once before going back to washing the pile of utensils as he had been before. Feeling slightly awkward, Harry looked at Luna before renewing his conviction.

The least he could do was get Luna the best room in the house. "Sir, we'd like to rent rooms."

Should he also pay for the previous night?

"Rooms are 10 gold a night," Thoring explained tiredly. "But we're full right now. Come back later, after the hunters have left again. Should have a few rooms open by afternoon."

"Oh, err... Alright then," Harry mumbled, as he shuffled in place. What did he do now, then?

"Do you have anything to drink? Something warm, perhaps?" Luna asked cheerfully, once again striking Harry as peculiar.

"Wine or mead?"

"Do you have any mulled wine?" she asked, her voice hitching with slight excitement.

"Mulled? No, can't say I do..." Thoring shook his head as he eyed Luna's tantalizingly incomplete attire with something akin to wonder and confusion for a moment.

"That's a pity. Its sweetness and warmth are quite nice when watching the snowfall."

"Hmm. We do have a bottle or two of some sweet spiced wine."

Luna nodded. "Then a bottle of that, if you would please. Oh, and two mugs, and a kettle please."

"That'll be 12 septims."

Harry winced at the price, but looking at Luna's expectant smile he couldn't very well refuse now.

They sat quietly by the fire, letting the black-bottomed kettle hang over the fire and warm up the wine within. Somehow the dancing flames and the glowing core of coal within entranced him completely as he stared at it. The radiating heat at times growing unbearable despite him not even sitting very close to the fire, forcing him to look away, only to return to staring at the flames mere moments later again.

The day wasn't even half over, yet he felt completely beat already. Perhaps his poor rest the night prior had something to do with it.

Suddenly, or so it seemed to him anyhow, a mug full of steaming hot wine was handed to him. He looked up at Luna as he accepted it, mumbling a quiet thanks. The deep burgundy of the wine smelled unfamiliar to him and it burned on his tongue, but the sweetness and warmth of it running down his throat almost made him melt.

"Luna, I'm sorry about..." he hesitated, not sure what he was sorry about.

About the dress, of course. But also for getting them in this mess. For putting her through all of this as he stumbled around incompetently.

"Oh no..." Luna suddenly moaned and he blinked, sitting up suddenly and almost spilled some of the wine on himself. He was about to ask what it was when she shook her head at him. "There are Wrackspurts here as well. You're all fuzzy again."

He flushed, not sure if it was hot anger or embarrassment or what he felt quite then, but then deflated as he shook his head with renewed shame. He didn't have any right to blow up at her. Not right now.

"What will we do now, Harry?" she prodded gently, perhaps seeing that he had gone back to his brooding again.

He blinked, realizing that he hadn't even thought about that. "Right, we, uh..."

They had money now. Enough to last a while at least, even if they stayed at the Inn. But how did they go about getting _back?_ Could they hope to wait this out—wait for someone to come looking? No, definitely not. Draco had been certain that no one would find the Vanishing Cabinet, and there was no way that Harry could conceive of for someone to even begin to think to look for them in the Room of Requirement.

Or worse yet, in _another bloody world_ beyond the Cabinet in the Room?

"We should try going back to where we landed. Tomorrow maybe. There hasn't been any snowfall, so we can probably backtrack all the way to where we landed. Maybe we can find some clues... Or something."

It was the best he could come up with.

She nodded very seriously, before smiling. "It's reassuring how comported you are. I've never been this lost before, but I suppose you have, Harry."

"Huh?"

"It's good you've been on so many adventures, I think. It doesn't phase you to be completely out of your depth, it must come from experience with being scared and bewildered so often." She nodded again, seeming quite satisfied with her conclusion.

Harry snorted, not sure if he should take being called an experienced incompetent as a compliment. "_Thanks_."

"You're very welcome, Harry."

Shaking his head at how very Luna that was, he took another sip of his cup, feeling slightly better despite himself.

They sat there for another short while before he stood up. He felt slightly light-headed, but not too woozy. The spiced wine had probably been quite strong. He wasn't very experienced when it came to wine and liqueur after all. But, his gut was telling him it was time to call it quits.

"I don't think we should drink much more. We can probably store the rest of the bottle for later."

She nodded, downing the rest of her own cup before pouring the last few drops from the bottom of the kettle and drinking that too. Thoring waved them to just leave the cups and kettle by a table.

"If we're going to walk there tomorrow morning, we should probably spend the rest of today getting ready," he suggested.

"That sounds very reasonable."

He continued. "So, what should we bring with? You went camping in Sweden in the summer with your father, didn't you?"

She nodded, raising a lone finger to her lips as her eyes went to the ceiling. She tapped at her lower lip, considering out loud as she did. "We'll need a net, calipers, two pounds of maize flour, a bag..."

"Erm... Why don't we start off with some better clothes? Can we transfigure those, or should we try buying them here?" he suggested, trying to move the discussion away from any gear they wouldn't actually need unless they went looking for some of Luna's creatures.

Transfigured clothes would work well in the short-term, but they probably would want real clothes sooner or later.

"Oh, shoes. And warm socks!" she suggested loudly. "Many pairs. We'll want to change them. And Nargles don't like sweaty socks, so they are very safe to put away."

He nodded and ignored the latter half of her comment, for now, glaring at his own footwear. They certainly looked nice enough, but they weren't exactly comfortable or warm. "Boots. The furry kind, on the inside I mean, like the guards have," he said with determination.

Luna nodded with wide eyes, obviously liking that idea. "Fuzzy boots..."

"And we'll need food. Just in case we get lost or have to stay awhile," he thought, considering what they would need with his arms crossed.

"Yes, flour. We can melt snow and make bread. Daddy would often charm them to look and move like Umgubular Slashkilters and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks for fun."

It _would_ probably be lighter and more compact than bringing already baked bread along, he acknowledged with a nod. Though he didn't quite know how to make bread out of just flour. But it couldn't be that hard, he thought. Hopefully, Luna knew how to make some, though.

"Should we bring a tent?" he asked, thinking back to the summer before his fourth year, at the Quidditch World Cup. The large—on the inside anyhow, and that was all that _really_ mattered—tent had been rather nice, even if he didn't know the space expansion charms to make one.

"No, no, you put the net up with a stick, _like so_," she tried to show how with her hands, but Harry didn't quite know what to make of it. "And then you pack leaves or snow on top of it. It's much warmer and harder to find that way. And then you can move the whole tent with you when we find tracks to follow."

That might actually work. A net would be pretty light compared to a whole tent and they should be able to find one pretty easily down by the docks. Or maybe a wide roll of cloth. Nets would probably be more expensive to buy. Or then they could just transfigure that as well. Would it last the night, or disappear and cause the piled snow to fall on top of them? Permanent transfigurations were a N.E.W.T. subject in Transfiguration, but he hadn't gotten to that yet...

Hermione might know how to do that, but...

Harry shook his head. No, no, they weren't planning on staying the night, so it wasn't like they needed the net. And carrying something permanent would just defeat the advantage of transfiguring it in the first place. But they might _have to _stay, so it made sense as a precaution. It wouldn't weigh much, he thought.

If they could find it for cheap, they would buy it, then. If not, they would figure something out.

He looked at Luna with a newfound sense of respect; she really did know a lot about stuff like this. Tilting his head, he asked the last item which still didn't quite fit his understanding; "Then, what are the calipers for?"

"Oh, they're for measuring the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, when we find it."

Harry snorted and she looked slightly affronted at his reaction. "We won't need those."

"And why not?" she asked, not quite cross.

"Uh... They're not going to help us find our way back to Hogwarts, I mean," he replied hastily and she blinked, apparently mollified by his explanation. "But can you make another pair of those glasses you had? Maybe you can find the trail of Wrackspurts again. They might not be, umm, natural to his world."

"Oh, that's a very clever idea, Harry." She beamed, but then shook her head. "But I'm afraid not. Daddy promised he would teach me the spell after my O.W.L.s," she explained slightly wistfully, rolling a finger through her hair as she looked away dreamily.

"Don't worry, Luna. We'll get back before the end of the year exams. I promise," he reassured her.

Smiling, she nodded. "Alright, Harry."

* * *

That night Harry dreamed of death and destruction.

Dark laughter and painfully familiar screams of despair woke him up and for a moment his unfamiliar surroundings blended with the nightmarish visions still dancing through his consciousness, resulting in a small dent in the wall after he had cast a disarming charm at a particularly human-like shadow on the wall.

He panted, swinging his legs down to the icy cold stone floor. The cold shiver ran up all the way to the back of his head and he exhaled a long cold breath. Getting up, he put on his clothes and gathered his things, leaving the room for the large hall with the fire and tables. The embers had died during the night, but the warmth had soaked into the stone floor during the day and still radiated pleasantly.

Sitting down on a chair he moved next to the fire pit, he allowed his head to fall into his hands, resting his elbows against his knees.

The night hadn't brought him any respite, his exhaustion from the previous day barely dented by the ill dreams of the night. Hadn't the townspeople already mentioned it several times how no one seemed to be able to get a good night's sleep recently? Then again, it wasn't as if nightmares were anything new to him. Not in a long time.

Trying very hard not to think about his dreams—and how he should be back in Hogwarts; how people would react once they realized the Chosen One had vanished; how he was letting everyone he knew down with every minute he wasted here...

Shaking his head again, he put the bag he had bought yesterday on the floor. It was a simple sack made out of sturdy cloth, large enough that he could have worn it as a shirt if he poked some holes into it first. It had a length of rope as a strap which also functioned to close the mouth of the bag, allowing him to carry it over his shoulder.

Opening it now he spread out the things he had bought. The essentials he couldn't simply transfigure from other things. Mostly it was just food, as he had come to realize just how dead useful transfiguration was. As long as he could remember the incantations anyhow.

Luna was much better at that, they had realized, despite Harry's excellent O.W.L. results.

She had told him how she had made the lion's head hat with transfiguration and charms as an assignment, which had apparently quite impressed both McGonagall and Flitwick. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but when he had tried to think about how to make something like that he found himself quite stumped as to where to even begin.

There wasn't a spell to just _make _a hat like that, much less one that roared so convincingly.

Feeling slightly sullen about that fact, he thought of all the spells he knew he could do. Charms he was alright at, but it was DADA he felt most comfortable with. Jinxes, hexes and even curses... But those couldn't _create_ anything like Luna had.

"Well, at least I can do this, _Expecto Patronum,_" he spoke quietly as he brought his wand to bear.

The proud stag manifested with a leap out of his wand, it's silvery shimmering and smoky form looking about the room alertly before it began to walk around by itself. He put away his wand, looking at the majestic creature with something between familiar reverence and aching longing. Then, as if compelled by something, it leaped out through a wall and into the night.

Harry blinked, not certain what to make of his spirit guardian leaving him like that all of a sudden. He shook his head, his exhaustion still wearing him down considerably. He closed his eyes, thinking to himself that he probably wasn't going to fall asleep again but it wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

* * *

"Good morning, Harry."

He blinked his eyes, realizing that he was being addressed. Sitting up, he stretched his neck as he realized he had a painful crick from sleeping in an odd position.

"M'rning, Luna..." he muttered somewhat blearily.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked innocently.

About to answer waspishly, remembering his nightmares, he looked up at her. But then he realized that the crick in his neck aside, he actually felt quite well-rested. "I s'pose I did, yeah..."

That still didn't mean that his eyes didn't feel crusty and sandy, however. With a grunt, he began to look for his glasses with a groping hand.

"Oh, good. So did I. Shall we have ourselves some breakfast, then?" she continued with cheer.

"Sure, do you want some cheese or bread?" he asked as he put on his spectacles and brought the world back to clarity. Reaching out and grabbing their pack, he raised the bag with their foodstuffs up with one hand.

"I don't suppose you have any pudding?"

He shook his head. "Afraid we're all out of pudding. Would you like water or wine? Actually, don't answer that, we're not getting sloshed first thing in the morning."

"Tea would be nice," Luna opined as she sat down next to him.

"Right, let me just find the bags then," he groused sarcastically.

She looked at him queerly, then. "Oh, the bag is right here, Harry. Did you lose it, just now? That sometimes happens to me, things just wandering off on their own the moment I look away."

"No, I meant the tea bags, Luna. Which we don't have_ any of,_ regardless." Harry huffed.

"A bag? Just for tea?" She appeared amazed by the concept.

Letting out a shuddering laugh, as he supposed they didn't have paper tea bags in Hogwarts, so he decided to let the topic be. It was far too early for this much Luna for him right now. "Let's just eat and be on our way."

"Alright, Harry, if you want. Could you please pass the cheese knife?"

* * *

There hadn't been any snowfall in the past few days, luckily.

But they hadn't counted on the _wind_. Powdery white snow danced and twirled with gusts and breezes, sometimes blinding both as they walked back down the road they had used mere days ago the other way around.

By the time they found the trail, the sun was just rising completely over the horizon and stretching out with its golden rays across the pristine planes and towering mountaintops. They had almost missed the trail Harry had left in the snowbank; it had become so filled in by the wind.

Walking the trail back to where they had landed wasn't any easier the second time, as the hardened bottom of the trail had created a very specific shape and frozen over. A shape that matches their previously smaller shoes and not the warm boots they had transfigured the day prior out of some old wood. A shape that had been formed by walking one way, not the other way around. The soft-bottomed boots that went up to their calves were incredibly warm and comfortable compared to their previous shoes, but even so, walking was becoming increasingly difficult.

Halfway up the trail, Harry's calves had been on fire and his knees and ankles felt like they had been permanently wrenched 90 degrees inward from having to walk his own trail backward.

It was pure misery, he thought.

And once they had gotten back to where their trail began and ended, it hadn't gotten any better.

It was after standing around for half an hour that he finally had to accept and acknowledge the fact that he had no idea what to do. He had his wand, but it wasn't as if he had ever been taught a spell to do... _anything, _that would help him here. Maybe if he had been taught how to apparate properly, he might know how to find old apparition points, but he doubted it. Did they even teach such a thing to those first learning how to apparate? And would he have even been paying attention, when they were?

He had taken comfort in the knowledge that at least he knew _where_ they had arrived, so that he could maybe come back later again.

Only, he hadn't counted on the wind.

Luna had dreamily pointed out how quickly the clouds above were moving when he had shared his thoughts and he had had to admit that she was right. They could have been blown wildly off course during their fall, meaning that the point where they had appeared wasn't necessarily even above them right where they stood. And neither had thought to note the direction of the wind's blowing on the night of their arrival, either. Maybe if he had a broom with him, he could have flown up and tried to see if he recognized anything...

He had ambled around for another hour, hoping to find _something, anything, _only finally when his stomach began demanding for food did he call it quits.

Clearing out space, he had transfigured them chairs and started a fire and called out to Luna. She had appeared from the woodwork after a while and they had settled down again to share some bread and cheese with water heated over the fire.

"I'm sorry, Luna... I can't find anything," he admitted quietly, sitting with his hands on his knees as he stared at the fire tiredly.

"Oh..." was all she said for a while, apparently having lain her own hopes on his shoulders as well, which only managed to make him feel even worse about his helplessness.

Shortly, it began to snow as well.

Small, gentle petals at first, but quickly it turned into a heavy cloaking fall that began to cover everything in heavy white, damping and pressing down on all around them like the static on the telly. Visibility turned so poor that they lost sight of the mountains and the sea, with even the most nearby trees seemingly vanishing behind the thick veil of white.

"Harry..." Luna eventually spoke, so softly it might have just been the wind.

He looked up, not saying anything.

"Would you like some tea?"

He scoffed, but then shrugged, his eyes returning to his hands as his thoughts continued to whirl about. Hermione and Ron would be worried sick by now, surely. Dumbledore would probably be just as disappointed, while Voldemort would no doubt be laughing it up at the 'Chosen One' having quite literally up and vanished himself in the middle of the night.

What would happen to Hogwarts and to Britain, with him gone?

"Here you go, Harry."

Luna's voice broke him out of his funk once more and he mechanically accepted the proffered mug. He looked down at the steaming water in the cup and almost scoffed again.

_What tea? _It was just hot water.

Still, the cold had begun to seep into him despite the thicker clothes he and Luna had transfigured the day before from lengths of cloth they had bought down by the docks, layered with some old furs they had also managed to buy cheaply.

Tentatively he brought up the mug, blowing at it once, before taking a sip. And almost spat it back out immediately; the bitter taste and slight touch of lemon in the hot water so unexpected. He looked at Luna who was quietly drinking her own tea across from him with wide eyes, before looking down again into the cup.

She really _had _made tea.

Sipping again, this time ready for the flavour, he tried to recognize it but found that he simply couldn't. It wasn't _bad_; the bitterness being rather refreshing, but he couldn't say that it was very _good_ either.

"Luna, what is this?" he asked finally.

"Pine tea. Daddy and I used to drink it in Sweden," she explained. "Do you like it?"

Grimacing, he shrugged and took another sip. "...I don't know."

"I see."

"It's quite bitter," he remarked to fill the silence, now again having grown aware of Luna and preferring being mindful of her to thinking and remembering and doubting himself so as he seemingly had for the past few days.

"Yes, I suppose it rather is."

He drank some more nonetheless, the warmth seeping and the curious taste giving him something to mull over. But his thoughts could only go one way, regardless of his wishes. "Do you think they're looking for us, right now?"

"I should hope so. The only thing worse than being gone is being gone and forgotten," Luna said, her words heavier than usual and he couldn't help but glance at her. She, too, was sipping her own mug of tea.

Looking down again, he wondered. "Maybe. But... but maybe it would be better, not forcing them to wonder and hope. I mean..." He stumbled over his words, unable to adequately put to words his thoughts. That maybe he would have wished they not remember him at all if his absence would cause much pain. Until finally he shook his head and gave up. "Never mind..."

"I should want to be remembered. When I die, at least."

Harry frowned, looking up with furrowed brows. Almost on reflex, he spoke to deny her words. "You're not going to die, Luna."

He would bloody well see to that. Their eyes met and she smiled slightly.

"Thank you, Harry. But I will one day."

Wanting to argue back, but recognizing the foolishness of such suddenly as he looked at Luna, he grumbled instead as he returned his focus to his tea. He didn't understand her at all at times.

"And someday, they too will have no other choice, than to accept us as having already passed, as well."

Her words ran painfully true, when all he wanted was to brood in silence. But she was right. One could only be gone for so long before someone finally decided that they had died.

"Sod _that,_" he said, standing up. Angry energy ran through him and he realized he was balling his fists so hard they were shaking now. "Like bloody hell will I just accept that."

He almost threw aside the mug with its contents, but then thought better of it and simply threw back his head and drained the whole thing, _then _tossed it aside.

"Come on, Luna. We're going back to Dawnstar."

She blinked up at him, eyes wide at his apparent swing of mood. "Alright, Harry. But it's rather late already. Will we find our way back? I don't know the stars here, either..." she said, now staring directly up at the speckled sky above, barely visible through the falling snow.

It had grown dark and the snowfall had been thick. _Was still thick_. He couldn't find the twice traversed trail, nor could he see the mountains about them for direction back to the road, much less navigate by the unknown stars of this world.

Scowling, he shook his head. "Like I bloody well care. I'll just apparate us back." Her mouth formed a perfect o then, as if she had only now remembered that he could do such. "Get our things. No point in staying here any longer."

He could just apparate here again if he wanted to, a fact that he only now realized. They had walked all the way out here for nearly nothing.

Presently, Luna had put out the fire and collected their things, the un-transfigured ones anyhow, grabbing a hold of his arm. They exchanged a quick look before Harry took out his wand and then spun in place, his magic flaring out.

The squeezing sensation wasn't nearly as breath-stealing and gut-wrenching as it was the first time, much more like what he remembered from his first time to the rooftop.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Dawnstar in the distance down the road, just as he remembered seeing it the first time. The heavy snowfall wasn't quite enough to dim out all the lights, but even so, the distant sounds of people settling in for the night were muffled and absorbed. Just as much as it had the first time they had come down the road the night before yesterday, it looked like a far-off dream they had stumbled into somehow, as the houses and features clearly visible during the day had become warped and nigh-indiscernible.

Their imaginations twisted the shadows out of shape and the hinted at things that clearly hadn't been there. For a moment Harry even entertained the idea that he might have gotten them somewhere else entirely. Maybe if he squinted, he could see a little of Hogsmeade in that house over there, or... But no. He couldn't fool himself with such ideas for long.

"I feel so stupid for not remembering that I could have just apparated us there... Bloody well wasted the whole day."

"Oh, I don't think so. It was quite a nice day for a walk," Luna opined cheerfully to match his dark misgivings. "And I found so many herbs and flowers and berries along the way! We should go see Frida again tomorrow, Harry. I'm sure she'll be happy to see what we brought back."

"Huh?" he grunted intelligently in query.

She raised a bag that he didn't remember seeing before, opening it to show how its insides were divided into compartments, filled to the brim with various small and colourful things that she must have picked up along the way. Some of which he thought he recognized vaguely.

Had she picked out things in the alchemist's shop and looked for them the whole day? He realized he was staring at her now with his mouth hanging open in amazement.

"Brilliant, Luna!" It was all he could say.

She smiled at his honest praise, closing the bag carefully as she tried to keep the snow from falling in.

Feeling much better about the day and honestly much too tired to brood over his longing for the soft and warm beds of Windpeak Inn, he lead the back there. The wind howled and combined with the heavy snowfall that still showed no signs of abating tore at his new clothes and at his hair now that they were so much closer to the sea.

Getting the door open was a battle in and of itself as the snow had piled up to their knees in front of it, forcing him and Luna to kick away at the piles to clear away enough room for the portal to swing open. The heat from the fires inside had also melted much of the snow right next to the wall, making it watery slush that their clothes and boots almost happily absorbed themselves to the point of bursting.

"Ugh!"

Finally making it inside, they shook their heads and shook themselves as dry as possible as they closed the door behind them.

The Inn was abuzz with people, the tense current of a loud argument interrupted unmistakeable as a dozen heads turned to eye the open door. Harry flushed, half out of the sudden attention and half from the warmth now pooling in and through his layers of clothing comfortingly. He opened his mouth to say something, but by then everyone had lost interest in him and had returned to their earlier discussion once more.

Luna ambled off to warm herself by the fire as Harry walked over to secure their rooms for the night. He noted confidently that with so few patrons, getting rooms shouldn't be a problem.

"Good evening, sir."

"Evening. I see you two have managed to get yourselves some new clothes, then. Good, that. This snowstorm won't be easing up for at least a few nights, if the aching of my bones isn't fooling me..."

"Oh, err... Yes, thank you." Harry nodded, filing that titbit aside while also curiously looking at the innkeeper. He seemed much more energetic and relaxed than before. "Are the two rooms I paid for last night still available? We'd like to stay another night."

The innkeeper nodded towards the rooms, saying, "They haven't been touched. Thought you might be coming back. It's another 20 septims, of course."

"Right, of course. Here—"

The front door was kicked open again and even all the way by the counter, across the entire long hall from the door, Harry shivered at the lance of cold air that seemed to reach out to him. Turning around, he eyed as several of the guard filed in, led by a man wearing the same garb but for the lack of a helmet. Piercing blue eyes scanned the inn, set in a wrinkled and wind-worn face from which an impressive mustache and mutton chops sprouted, nearly completely at odds with the otherwise short-cropped blonde hair on the man's head.

"By order of the Jarl, settle down you lot!" the man in question roared as the door was closed behind them. "The Jarl himself could hear you from across town!"

"But Jod, something's happened. You must have felt it, too. Even the Jarl can't deny it. Don't think we didn't notice he wasn't out of bed long past noon today!" Someone in a loose white shirt shouted, standing up by the fire. They stood at equal height and width, with arms thicker than Harry's legs and chests like barrels.

The man leading the guards, Jod, grumbled before pointing at the seated men with a calloused, frying pan-like hand. "The Jarl has ordered Madena to look into the matter already. You lot should just keep your heads in the mines and leave these things to your betters."

To emphasize his words, the hand was reeled back in and came to rest upon the head of a large axe hanging from the guard's belt. Intricately carved with swirling patterns, its presence suddenly drew the hall into a hushed silence.

Grunting with some satisfaction, Jod turned around to leave. But someone drew forth the courage to speak, stopping the gaggle of guards before they could walk out through the door.

"Then what about the white stag?"

"Yeah!" Someone else immediately joined in from the other side of the hall, having remained quietly in the dark corner until now. "What about the white stag?"

"It must be a sign from the gods!"

Harry felt his stomach fall through the floor. They had seen his Patronus? Was that what this entire argument was about? Had he gotten the guards' and the Jarl's—whatever that was—attention when they needed to hide their magic? Worriedly looking about, he found Luna and tried to get her attention. But her gaze was decidedly locked onto the loud discussion. She was smiling and swaying her head left and right, remaining wholly unnoticed even as next to her burly men were standing up to join in on the shouting.

Finally, it seemed as if the guards had had enough as weapons were drawn. But Harry had no eyes for them as he hurried to Luna, grabbing her by the shoulder to get her attention. Pale silvery eyes turned up to regard him, blinking curiously as he motioned for them to get out of the hall.

She followed after him without a word and after he closed the door to his room, cutting out most of the shouting beyond, she asked the question foremost on her mind at the moment. "Was that your Patronus last night, Harry?"

"Err, yeah it was," he admitted sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't ask why he had thought to cast the charm last night. He wasn't entirely clear on the reason himself anymore, either. Something about his sleep-deprived state had made his head weird and thinking back to it made him feel very foolish.

Raising a thoughtful finger to her lower lip, she peered up at the ceiling. "I didn't know that you could do that. I thought he only came to prance in my dreams because he might have missed me."

"Oh, err, he was in your, I mean, what?" He shook his head, his thoughts already in a confusing loop.

"Everyone has been sleeping rather terribly, hadn't you heard Harry?" She was now peering at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Perhaps there is a Lethifold or a Quivering Shadedam here..." She trailed off, suddenly in deep thought, leaving Harry to blink as he digested what she had said.

He hadn't been the only one with nightmares?

"Huh."

Maybe he should let Prongs out for a walk again tonight. Shrugging and not thinking more about it, they settled for the evening. Ignoring the rest of the commotion as the patrons and guardsmen argued, they got out of their wet clothes and changed into dry ones. In the privacy of their own rooms, of course.

After that, they ate and said their goodnights and went to bed.

Harry almost forgot to cast his Patronus, but the moment just before he fell asleep he remembered and pulled out his wand. Whispering the words from within the warm and comfortable folds of his blanket, his extended hand turning to gooseflesh from the touch of cold air, he fell asleep at the sight of Prongs prancing about his bedroom.


	4. Venturing High and Deep

Harry woke up before he had even realized it.

One moment, he was warm and comfortable. The next he desperately needed to take a leak. And getting out of bed, he groaned and ached like he hadn't in months.

"I thought quidditch aches were bad..."

Rolling his feet to warm them up and shivering so that his knobby knees were almost hitting each other, he put on some clothes with utmost haste. Five minutes later found him outside, standing by the outhouse and moaning into the crisp morning air. Washing his hands with some of the fluffy snow a dozen paces back, he shivered again.

It wasn't quite morning yet Harry decided.

The first rays of the sun had only just begun to peek over the horizon, cresting over the tall mountains to the east and highlighting their contours. Looking to the north-eastern sea, he could even see the light slowly starting to overtake the shadows of the dark sea, glittering and shimmering far, far away.

He thought he had already gotten used to the rugged beauty of blue skies, tall mountains and black waters back in Hogwarts, but this land—Skyrim as he had learned yesterday in the evening—really was something else. Breathtaking, almost.

Too bad he was still stuck here.

And like that, his good morning mood was gone. Just like the morning vapour of his breath vanished into the cold, so too had his cheer vanished. It was beginning to become a habit, he realized; growing annoyed and angry at his own thoughts at every hour of the day.

Harry shook his head and returned to the Windpeak Inn briskly, and if he stomped his feet by the door to get rid of the snow a bit too loudly and angrily, he didn't care.

Returning to his room before anyone noticed or had time to complain, he sat down with a huff on the bed. Where minutes before it had been heaven on earth, now it was just a sour reminder of the previous day, its failures, and of being stuck here. Helpless. What good had six—well, _five and a half_—years of Hogwarts been, if he didn't have a spell for when he actually, truly, needed it?

He tried to desperately think of anything that he might have learned over the years that could help, going through year by year as well as he could still remember, but it proved a futile effort which only resulted in his stomach growling more insistently as the morning hours passed and the other occupants of the inn began to wake up.

Finally giving up and in, he got out of the room and headed for the counter, before noticing that Thoring was standing by the large firepit and was fiddling with what looked like a large, dry ball of black tangled hair. It wasn't until it almost burst into flame from the smallest spark, that Harry realized it was some form of fire-starter. He felt very lucky then to at least have his wand in his pocket, not having the faintest clue as to how one would actually start a fire without an _Incedio-_charm.

"Good morning. Slept well, I hope?" Thoring asked cheerfully, though not overly loudly, as he dusted his now-sot covered hands on his apron.

Harry nodded, remembering having called upon his _Patronus_-charm again last night right before he had fallen asleep. Perhaps it really had worked. The thought alone was enough to lift his spirits a little. At least enough to consider breakfast. The most important meal of the day, as Ron would say.

"D'you have anything for breakfast?" Harry asked.

"Of course. Pick your poison, friend. Bread, cheese, apples and yesterday's fish stew will be warming right up by the fire, if you're wanting something heavier to start your day with."

Having thought of his best mate had suddenly awoken an appetite in him, one he usually did not find himself faced with. "Well... I'll take a bit of all then, I s'pose."

Or perhaps he was just hungry after yesterday. Or 'eating his worries away', whatever Dudley had thought that was.

Thoring frowned, but said nothing as he nodded. A few minutes later Harry was munching on a piece of slightly stale bread with a big slice of cheese, from an actual cheese wheel, waiting for the fish soup to come to a boil again above the fire.

"Hello, Harry," a familiar voice spoke up behind him as he waited and he turned around to return the greeting.

"Morning, Lu—" he paused, his eyebrows vanishing beneath his messy bangs at the sight of her in the morning. Or rather, her hair. The usually-slightly-messed-up, in an adventurous and carefree manner, now looked like a raven had made its nest in it "—na," he finished lamely.

She smiled winningly, completely ignoring his reaction as she sat down next to him. "Are we having breakfast, then?"

"Oh, err, yes."

Offering his other, untouched loaf and the rest of the cheese to her—he was already getting satiated anyhow, and he hadn't even gotten his bowl of fish soup yet! Maybe just missing Ron didn't mean he would have his appetite, after all.

Luna smiled at him and accepted the offering happily. "Oh, thank you. I'm afraid I don't have anything for you, though."

"That's alright, Luna. I'm waiting on the soup to warm up, is all," he reassured her, pointing at the fire. Her eyes widened and she nodded appreciatively.

Catching Thoring's eye, Harry mimed for another bowl, to which the innkeeper smiled and hurried to bring one more over. He didn't miss how the older man's disposition had suddenly turned much friendlier again, now that Luna had woken up.

Wondering perhaps if the man was just as bewildered and bemused by her hair as he was, Harry shrugged and decided to not bother thinking about it too much anymore. The fish soup wasn't very good, but the broth was very warm and soaking the slightly hardened bread in it and allowing it suck up all the salt and flavour really enhanced its taste.

"Well, should we head out to see Frida now? The sun should be up already," Harry suggested as he stood up.

"Perhaps we could catch another mudcrab and eat it together again?" Luna suggested, licking her chops after devouring not one but two whole bowls of the fish soup, much to the innkeeper's apparent joy.

"Err," Harry intelligently replied, wondering whether all his thinking of Ron had affected Luna as well. Shaking his head at the meaningless thought, he shrugged. "Alright. Do you want to do something until noon, then?"

It wasn't like he had any plans, now that he had figured out that they were stuck here.

Tilting her head, Luna appeared thoughtful as she considered his question.

Waiting for a minute, Harry frowned. She still hadn't answered or so much as moved from her position. Shaking his head he decided that she wasn't going to answer him so he turned his thoughts inward again. _Maybe I should try to figure out how to make money, for now._

He wasn't sure how it would help them get back to Hogwarts, but having money seemed like it was the kind of thing that would help.

Could he find a way to turn his magic into easy money? Something that wouldn't get them in trouble? If he knew how to do permanent transfigurations, then that would be an easy way to make a lot of money with the traders down by the docks. But with his current skills in transfiguration it would just feel like cheating them; the same as confounding a muggle for their money, somehow.

"Would you like to walk back, again?" Luna finally asked and he had to frown.

Why would he want to walk back? There was nothing there, they had seen that yesterday. And he could just apparate them back if they wanted to go there again. So he shook his head once.

"Oh..." she seemed disappointed, deflating slightly.

"Do _you_ want to walk back again?" Harry asked, hesitating a little to even ask.

But she only shook her head, confusing him further. "Oh, no. Not very much, anyhow."

"You there," someone called out just then in a voice like gravel, approaching them from the outer door.

Harry blinked, turning to look at the approaching stranger wearing a yellow robe and hood, wondering who he was talking to only to realize that it was apparently him.

Their eyes met and Harry's blood ran cold.

_Red eyes_, burning in a deep-set face, all too reminiscent of Voldemort. Almost instinctively reaching for his wand, Harry stood up with a jolt. Taking this in stride and not realizing that he was panicking, the stranger reached up and lowered the hood to reveal his face completely.

Harry blinked, realizing that the man wasn't Voldemort, despite the very similar eyes. For starters, the dark greyish-blue skin—while just as unnatural a skin-tone as the dark lord's—was nothing like Voldemort's pale pallor. For another, the dark lord wouldn't have been dead caught with such pointy ears.

The man also had a nose, Harry supposed after a moment as he calmed down, realizing that he had been getting worked up over nothing. Slightly embarrassed now, he stuttered out a reply. "Oh, err, yes...?"

The man began to answer, but Luna's question butted in and caught him completely off-guard.

"You're very large for a house elf. Have you come to warn us of the Ministry of Magic?"

"Oh, err... Thank you? Or rather, I haven't?" the dark-skinned _man...?_, seemed very confused, shaking his head once.

The more closely Harry looked, the more he realized that this probably wasn't a normal human being. The completely red, almost glowing, eyes were the most obvious sign. But their shape, and the heavily ridged forehead and extremely sharp chin and jaw made him seem somehow very alien. And perhaps it was just this individual elf, but his voice was very dark and scratchy.

Look around, Harry couldn't help noting how Thoring wasn't reacting to the yellow-garbed stranger's presence at all. _Is this normal here...?_

"Oh, I see. But you should be very careful of them, sir. You see, they have been enacting terrible plots, such as turning goblins into pies. Who knows when they will come for the house-elves." Luna nodded, deathly serious and dire in her warning to the stranger.

Shaking his head, he replied aghast, "Why would anyone wish to make a _goblin pie_? That sounds awful."

"Indeed." Luna only nodded.

"Wait, there are goblins here?" Harry asked, suddenly growing excited as he got right up to the man. "Do they have a bank branch anywhere nearby? Please, sir, this is urgent!"

"B-bank? What? _No_. Goblins do not have banks, and you _don't _bake them into pies...!" The stranger was now obviously utterly confused and lost. Shaking his head, he bemoaned to the heavens. "Oh Lady Mara, did you truly mean for me to seek assistance from these two...?"

Harry deflated at that, realizing with hot embarrassment that he had been jumping to conclusions.

"This is all wrong, let's start over. My name is Erandur and I am a priest of Mara. She has sent me a vision, where I saw the two of you. I wish to ask for your help with an important task." The man turned to Luna then, continuing. "And your kind usually refer to my kind as dark elves, though we tend to prefer _dunmer, _the word from our own tongue_._ I have never before heard of 'house-elves', nor have I been referred to as one before, to be quite honest."

Luna couldn't have looked happier at what she had been told, as her eyes were as wide as saucers then. "'Dunmer'? Daddy will be so happy to hear about this!"

Harry chuckled as he palmed his face, he couldn't help it. He just knew he would be forced to explain this to Ron and Hermione in the future and they would think him completely _mental_ for it. "_Yes Hermione, the dunmer are real. No, I didn't think to ask if they wished to join spew._"

Shaking his head, all but able to hear Hermione's rebuttal about it being S.P.E.W. already, before he brought his attention back to the elf before him.

"So, uh, err... how can we help you?" he asked hesitantly.

He was now starting to remember some of the words the man had mentioned. Words, like '_Lady Mara_', '_priest_', and most importantly '_vision_'. If a decade at the Dursleys had taught him something, it was how to spot 'freaks'. Or well, 'nutters' as Ron would put it.

Harry's uncle Vernon had often and loudly complained about them, how they were always bothering good, hard-working people for money and never going out and working for it themselves, talking about vague nonsense as they did so to justify their begging. Harry wasn't sure how much of that he believed, but Erandur had made it clear that he wanted _something_ from him and Luna, so perhaps there was something to Vernon's rants after all?

"Yes, well... My Lady Mara has granted me a vision, guiding my steps to you. There is a terrible curse upon the people of Dawnstar, plaguing their sleep and threatening their souls," Erandur explained, growing more heated by the second. "I must journey out to put an end to this, and she has conveyed to me that you would be able and willing to help."

"Oh, well, umm... She must be quite something to do that. Did she hear about us from someone, perhaps...?" Harry fished, trying not to sound rude or too obviously judgmental.

But Erandur only laughed. "The Divines hear many things, my child. But even I was surprised when she lead me to you."

Harry only nodded, saying nothing to that as he firmly mentally crossed over the man before him as a complete nutter.

Perhaps sensing that reticence, the priest frowned. "You... _have_ heard of Mara, haven't you? The handmaid of Kyne?" Seeing no reaction from either, he continued. "The Mother Goddess of Love, of the Imperial Pantheon...?"

Glancing at Luna, Harry shrugged as he suddenly realized that perhaps insulting a stranger's religion in another country wasn't the brightest of ideas.

"Where from do you hail, to not have heard of Mara?" the priest wondered and Harry realized suddenly that Thoring was now paying rapt attention to the conversation as well. _This isn't good, what do we tell them...?!_

"I'm from Ottery St Catchpole. It's in Devon, you see, and I live with my father there. But right now we're a little lost, Harry and I," Luna answered without hesitation as she glanced at him with a smile.

Harry's goggled at her careless words, just blurting out like that.

The elf blinked, his bright red eyes appearing confused only for a moment before he nodded. "Oh, well... I see. It is a shame that Mara's love is not known there, for hers is gentleness and kindness for all."

_What, _Harry thought.

"Oh," Harry said.

Was it that easy?

Luna nodded sagely at the elf's words. "I will make sure to tell daddy about Mara, I'm sure he will want to write about her."

"I see." Erandur nodded, before shaking his head. "Regardless, I wished to speak with you two about the nightmares that the locals have been suffering from, and about putting a stop to them."

"Oh well, we'd be happy to help..." Harry began, trying to think of a way out of this situation. "But how could we even help? We've only been staying here for a few days."

The priest smiled softly. "And for two of those nights, there has been a surcease of suffering as a mighty white stag has guarded the dreams of the innocent and restless, granting them long-sought repose."

Harry cringed, realizing that logically speaking it was rather obvious. Perhaps he had gotten too used to being around airheaded witches and wizards who wouldn't make such obvious connections. "Did your, uh, lady Mara, tell you that?" he probed, hoping to uncover whether or not he had been seen casting spells.

Erandur shook his head. "The townspeople spoke to me of the white stag, leading me here. I only recognized you from my visions as I saw you."

Nodding, feeling mostly relief as he did so, Harry said nothing. Though now paying more attention, given the mention of visions.

"I understand your hesitations—I too was worried over how young you two seemed when Mara granted me the vision. But last night, I too was visited in the night by the white stag," the priest continued with a benevolent smile. But soon it turned pensive as he looked down, breaking eye contact. "A mighty guardian he is—to be able to ward the dreams of the entire town from Vaermina."

Harry felt a cold shiver run down his spine and he realized that his mouth suddenly felt very dry. Swallowing his nervousness, he asked. "Vaermina?"

The elf nodded.

"Yes. The Daedric Prince of Dreams and Nightmares, Vaermina. There is... an old temple of hers not far from Dawnstar. It was abandoned long ago, but I fear that it was not laid properly to rest, and its evils have begun to awaken. And if something is not done soon, then all of Dawnstar may be in danger."

"Oh," Harry replied. Uncertain how much of that he believed, he still couldn't ignore the people he had seen here. How tired and drawn out they had been days before and how much of an impact his _Patronus_-charm had had on them and their sleep.

Already he could feel his urge to help rising, despite his wariness and hesitation still holding him back. He glanced at Luna and realized that she was looking at him with wide, observant eyes. Half-cringing simply at the intensity of her gaze, he almost expected her to say something; expectations of him, telling him that he should or shouldn't help, her own beliefs at how the nightmares must have been caused by one of her strange creatures or even curiosity at this Vaermina so that she could tell her father all about it for their paper...

But there was none of that.

She was simply observing him without judgment. Waiting for his cue—his decision. Whatever he decided she would help him with it, he realized. Just as it had been back when they had staged their ill-conceived raid on the Department of Mysteries last year.

And Harry's gut was telling him that...

"Okay, I'll help you."

He couldn't very well ignore a problem like this if he could help.

"Thank you." Erandur smiled and slumped with relief, nodding twice as he wrung his hands. "Then we must journey to the Tower of Dawn that overlooks the town. Within we will find the old Nightcaller Temple and the source of the nightmares."

Harry nodded, vaguely recalling having seen the tower in the distance, east of the city just this morning. It wouldn't take long to get there, even on foot. "Alright. But," he began asking and turned to look at Luna again. She cocked her head quizzically at him. "What about you, Luna?"

She smiled. "May I come as well?"

They turned as one to look at Erandur, who blinked at being put on the spot.

"Well, if you believe it is best, then I will have no objections."

Harry grinned and nodded, turning look at Luna again. "There you have it."

* * *

Harry let out a heavy exhale, pausing to look behind him to make sure that Luna was still there behind him.

Sure enough, ten paces behind him she was trudging on up-hill in his tracks. She had a light sheen of sweat on her face now, which ironically enough seemed to have helped with bringing her hair back under control. Sighing and telling himself that it was time for himself to keep moving, he looked up and found the elven priest's back.

Harry realized almost an hour ago that Erandur was certainly much more used to the trekking than either he or Luna were, as the elf animatedly continued talking about the history of the tower and how it had been a ruin for a long time and how the priests within had rarely visited Dawnstar for some reason or another. It grew difficult for Harry to continue paying attention while walking uphill as the cold wind blowing at his face, the poor, unknowable footing beneath the treacherous snow, and the glare of the midday sun against the pristine white snow blinding him, all combined to drive him spare.

At first, Harry had thought the priest mad for walking out with so little clothing in the freezing weather, but as the sweat began to run down his back he began to understand why. While the tower was apparently just up ahead and had been in sight for the whole morning, he had completely underestimated how tiring it would be to walk in the snow up the mountain to reach it.

He would have to remember to dress more lightly next time.

"It is just up ahead, a little more and we'll be there!" Erandur shouted ahead, his breath coming out in large clouds as his light beige robes were patched here and there with large spots of sweat and melted water.

"Fan... tastic," Harry replied, grimacing as his feet ached.

Maybe it was just the boots not being a perfect fit, or the soles not being very good compared his usual sneakers, but his feet were beginning to cramp painfully. Especially in the arches of his feet. All he wanted was to sit down and just rub his feet for an hour and feel miserable.

But seeing as how Luna hadn't uttered a word of complaint and that he had agreed to come, he swallowed his complaints and trudged onward.

The steep incline began to level out as he neared Erandur who had paused to view the tower ahead. Not noticing Harry's approach, the elf almost jumped when he noticed that Harry had caught up.

_Why is he so jumpy...? _he wondered as he tried to catch his breath.

Shaking his head, Harry turned around to check up on Luna again. Their eyes met and he exhaled heavily, reminding himself that it was just a little bit more to the tower.

"Harry...!"

He almost missed the shout.

But then the chill running up his spine made him forget about all of that. Running steps crashing through the snow behind him, Erandur's surprised shout, Luna's wide-eyed expression at whatever she could see that he could not.

Harry whirled around, his hand already reaching for his wand before he had even thought about it, the first spell that popped into his head being flung out from his wand like an arrow loosed from a bow.

"_Stupefy!_"

The staggeringly large cat in mid-leap suddenly turned limp and Harry barely had enough time to duck underneath its enormous body as it sailed over him. He distantly had the thought that Hagrid would have loved a cat like that, before his eyes spotted a second giant cat racing for Erandur. No, it had already once pounced on him and missed, forcing it to turn around to face the elf again just as he was struggling to get back on his feet.

A second spell was on Harry's lips, when suddenly fire erupted from the elf's hands and streamed out like a great lance towards the great beast bounding for him.

It let out a keening yowl as its fur caught on fire, snapping Harry out of his stunned state. The cat was far from done as it dived for the snow and managed to put out the worst of the _furson_. Even through the considerable scorching and blackened flesh, Harry could see the two long and curved teeth that dominated the beast's maw.

Looking up with baleful eyes at the priest, it let out a deep growl that seemed to echo even in Harry's lungs despite the distance between him and the predator.

"I will _end you_!" the elf roared in return as his hand alit with dancing, orange flames that streaked out towards the cat.

But it jumped to the side, now wise to how painful the flames could be.

Just in time to be hit with a spell that came soaring through the air from behind Harry. "_Tarantallegra_."

The great cat let out a sharp yowl of confusion as suddenly all four of its legs began to dance in tune to an unheard beat, its eyes widening with comical confusion at its body moving by itself.

Erandur almost stumbled, blinking at the beast's sudden plight with his mouth hanging open, hesitating whether or not to renew his burning assault. Then, as if sensing another great threat, his head swiveled to the right so hard that his hood fell back.

There on top of the hill, where the tracks of the two great cats who had already attacked them led to, stood a third. Its eyes gleamed with a predatory cunning and wary intelligence as it observed its two predecessors.

Realizing something was behind him, Harry whirled around with wand in hand, blinking owlishly as he realized it was only Luna running up to him and not the first great cat or a fourth enemy. They exchanged nods, before as one they stunned the still-dancing second cat, leaving only the third still warily staring at them.

Erandur let out a shaky laugh as he noticed that it was now down to only one more threat. "At least we know that the temple is still abandoned... Sabre cats are too territorial and dangerous for any common bandit to have made their abode in the tower."

Harry gulped, glancing down at the nearest unconscious cat. His eyes were drawn to those long, curved teeth stretching out from the beast's massive jaws. He distantly remembered being bitten in his second year, how that tooth had made these look puny in comparison—which then reminded him of _Fluffy_ and Hagrid. Inhaling slowly, he turned to face the last, still-awake sabre cat that was eyeing them warily.

Years of Care of Magical Creatures lessons seemed to come flooding back to him in that moment, allowing Harry to exhale and relax. All of the tension and surprised fight drained out of him, leaving him calm and poised again. These things barely counted as house cats, as far as what Hagrid usually threw at them in class!

Harry walked forward with his wand poised at the ready, his eyes boring into the remaining cat. It hesitated as he strode past Erandur, its eyes switching to him as the closest body to it. But Harry didn't waver, walking forward confidently.

The great cat made a yowling protest as its ears flattened and then it turned and ran for it.

Behind him, Erandur let out a disbelieving laugh and Harry turned around with a small grin to make sure that Luna and the priest were both fine. And aside from a few bumps and bruises on an elbow and a knee, it was nothing to worry about.

As things wound down, Harry frowned as he recalled what had happened. Glancing sideways at the priest, he wondered at the magic he had seen. It had been wandless fire... But wasn't all house-elf magic wandless? Had he forgotten that Erandur was an elf, even if he wasn't of the house variety? Erandur hadn't commented on their use of magic either. Did this mean that magic was common here after all? Was there any point in their hiding of it until now?

Feeling very confused and conflicted over his overwhelming thoughts, he shook his head.

"What shall we do with these two?" Erandur asked, looking down at one of the snoring cats.

"Well..." Harry hesitated as he set aside his whirling thoughts, looking at Luna to see if she had any ideas.

She was bent over the other sabre cat, tilting her head left and right as she stared at the great muzzle and the long whiskers. She surely wanted to touch the great cat to see if it would purr, but still knew better than to try as she held her hands behind her back.

"Could we just leave them...?"

Erandur looked up, surprise and shock apparent at that suggestion. His protruding brow furrow as he stared down at the cat again. "You will not kill them? Make no mistake, these are dangerous beasts and you would receive no such mercy from them were the roles reversed now."

"Neither would I," Luna said airily without preamble, confusing the priest. Then, she clarified proudly, "I have never spared pudding or pie either."

Harry blinked at the outlandish comment and shook his head. He _thought _that he agreed with Luna, though. "Do they often bother the townspeople?"

"Not in recent memory, no." The elf made a difficult expression again. "They know to keep away from the town guards who patrol Dawnstar and search for easier prey instead."

"Well, I think we should leave them be. We came here to do something other than dealing with overgrown cats, didn't we?"

Erandur inhaled, glancing at the cat one more time before he nodded. "Very well. I did ask for your help; far be it for me to question you now."

That concluded, they began to make for the tower again. Following the two sets of tracks the sabre cats had left behind, they made it to the courtyard of the dilapidated tower. Perhaps it had been an old fort once; it was square, squat, grey and drab. Nothing like Hogwarts, despite the weathered stone speaking of standing here for hundreds, if not thousands of years.

Harry shivered at the sight of it; the lone door in the middle of the keep leading within somehow oozing a coldness, that had nothing to do with the chill of the outside air or the crisp snow crunching beneath their feet.

Erandur, either not noticing the foreboding aura or simply not caring, walked to the door without hesitation. The old wooden door, just as decrepit and weather-worn as the stone itself, creaked and groaned as he forced it to open. Thick chips of rust flaked off of the rough hinges and a stale smell blew out, making Harry grimace.

"I turned the abandoned temple into a shrine of Mara, but understandably it does not receive visitors or pilgrims very often. Come, it may not be much warmer inside but it should at least by dry and protected from the wind."

Hesitating for a moment, Harry glanced at Luna. She did not notice, intently staring over his shoulder, peering into the darkness the elf had wandered into. With a sigh and one last look at the sabre cats, he entered with Luna in tow and closed the door behind them.

It took a while, but slowly their eyes grew used to the dimness as Erandur lit a few candles with a sliver of wandless flame from his fingertip. With the sun blaring on from high and with the white snow beneath, the outside had been blinding in brightness, so the darkness actually felt somewhat soothing now.

Looking around, Harry noted that there wasn't much here.

Just one large and very messy room. More of a hall really, he supposed. Almost like a church, with the podium at the far end and the benches arrayed haphazardly along its length. Meanwhile, Luna walked around, picking up broken and dusty knick-knacks as she threaded through benches, her wet boots leaving a trail of half-melted snow behind her.

"Before we continue, there is something I must tell you," Erandur said as he had finished lighting up the candles in the hall. "Years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge... they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar are now."

"Huh?"

"What are orcs?" Luna asked, tilting her head curiously as she stared at the elf. Harry turned to look at her, able to recognize the humour in Luna asking that question for once despite his own confusion.

"You do not know of orcs, either?" Erandur questioned, distracted from his confession and appearing slightly ill at ease. "The orsimer, or _pariah folk _of Malacath?" Seeing as neither showed any signs of recognizing the description, he frowned.

Noting the priest's worry, Harry answered. "I can't say I have ever heard of them... But a war party? That sounds... pretty dangerous, to be honest."

"Yes, _well_... That is only half the danger I must warn you about. Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call the Miasma, putting everyone to sleep," Erandur replied. "There should be no danger to us so long as we do not wake them. But, I thought it best to mention it now, before we set foot into the temple itself."

So they were going to be sneaking around sleeping 'orcs', whatever those were?

Blinking, Harry realized that he really ought to have asked more questions before agreeing to come here. He crossed his arms as he frowned at the priest, who was growing more aware of this rift between them.

"The miasma?" Luna asked, apparently unaware of the sudden tension and too curious to remain quiet.

Erandur nodded at her and explained further. "The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the ageing process."

She perked up at that, growing excited. "Like Hum-snoring Periwinks?"

The elf priest blinked at the question, obviously not familiar with the creature.

"I... do not believe so."

"So why are we here, if the miasma is keeping all of the asleep?" Harry asked, now wary of the priest's reticence.

How were they going to get past the gas, if it was still lingering here?

While he had been very open and talkative regarding the tower and the cult that had resided within, he had also been very cagey about details regarding how they were going to put a stop to the nightmares the people of Dawnstar were suffering from. Harry also couldn't help but note that the 'orcs' had also come to put an end to those bad dreams, only to get somehow ensnared by the miasma in here.

"We're here to put a stop the townspeople's nightmares, right?"

Erandur nodded twice but did not elaborate further, eyes troubled and avoiding.

Growling, Harry asked: "Then, how many people are there here? And how long have they been sleeping?"

"...At least a hundred," the priest admitted uneasily.

Harry's brows shot up into his hair as he blinked. "A hundred people, or a hundred years?"

Erandur squirmed, looking away.

"Both."

The glasses almost fell off of Harry's face, at his sudden and startled reaction to the confession.

"Oh..." Luna whispered and he glanced at her. She was staring wide-eyed at the priest, mirroring his reaction. It wasn't often Luna was bothered by something, he thought distantly.

But...

"We have got to help them," Harry declared, clenching his fists.

"That... Might not be possible," Erandur said softly, almost a whisper. "Even before the long sleep, the priests would not have reacted well to your presence here, nor would the orcs, I would imagine. And, the miasma was never meant to hold anyone for so long... I fear their minds will already be lost if we wake them, so close to the Skull of Corruption and under the degenerative effects of the gas all this time."

"Skull of Corruption?" Luna asked, tilting her head quizzically.

"Yes... It is an artefact of Vaermina, the Daedric Prince of dreams and nightmares, whom the priests here worshipped. And it is the source of the townspeople's nightmares." Erandur explained.

"So we're going to break it?" Harry guessed and the priest nodded.

"Yes, that's right. I was granted a ritual by Mara that will allow me to destroy the staff," Erandur said a bit louder now, his confidence returning slightly. "But I will need to get down to it, first."

"And the Miasma be getting in our way, right?"

The priest nodded. "Yes, probably. It is very dangerous, putting everyone who breathes it into a deep slumber. I don't know if we will be able to get past it, down to the staff."

Harry sighed, annoyed now.

He had agreed to help, but he really ought to have asked first exactly what helping Erandur would entail. Because right now, having walked up a mountain all morning and at the foyer of the _temple of doom_, or whatever-Erandur-had-called-it, was not the time and place to be worrying about these things.

"And if we remove the miasma, everyone will wake up and... I don't know, try to kill us?"

The priest nodded again. Harry hadn't been entirely serious, but seeing the response he couldn't help but sigh again.

"And if we don't remove the miasma, they'll all just... sleep here, forever?"

This time the priest hesitated. Finally, he said: "I believe so. Sometimes, those affected by the Miasma for extended periods of time, never woke up at all."

"So, what?" Harry barked, eyes aglow with accusation. "You want us to just, kill them to get to the staff? Or worse yet, just forget about them and leave them here _forever?_"

Harry sighed for the third time, almost collapsing down onto one of the benches lining the room, running a hand through his hair. What exactly had he signed up for? A long and silent minute passed, the priest uncomfortably aware of Harry's wavering trust and the difficulty of what he was asking of him.

Hermione had said he had that he had a people-saving thing and maybe he did. But that had been one, or two people. Not a _hundred _people. Hermione in the loo, Ginny down in the Chamber of Secrets, Fleur's little sister down in the lake, Buckbeak and... _Sirius_...

A chill gripped his heart in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, as he remembered Sirius slipping limply through the Veil. It was no longer a raw pain, but it ached nonetheless. That loss. That failure. That mistake.

Was he just afraid of messing up again?

"Could we brew a potion? Daddy would always have one for me, whenever I would sleepwalk after Mummy died." Luna suggested beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He looked at her, his mind too distracted by the current issues to bother with the usual disquiet at her upfront frankness with such confessions. "Something like a dreamless sleep potion? Can you brew that potion?"

Surely there were potions that could defuse the situation here. A calming draught, or a draught of peace, perhaps? He knew how to brew those. _Probably_. It had been a few months since he had made either and he didn't have the Half-Blood Prince's book—or any other recipe book for that matter—with him.

It hadn't seemed pertinent to bring to the party, even if he had been planning on reading it again afterward. Not that he knew where to get the ingredients for any of the potions he knew how to brew, regardless. The visit to Frida's shop, filled with the many unknown herbs and ingredients had made that clear enough.

"Oh, no, I can't." Luna, too, seemed to deflate as she realized the problems inherent with that idea as well.

Holding his wand that he hadn't bothered to put away since the sabre cats, Harry rolled it between his thumb and index finger in a nervous habit, feeling each bump and groove in the wood as he did. The thought of the spells and books he had been thinking of lately, and the wand in his hand reminded him of something.

Like a Lumos in the darkness, it seemed to light the dimness with some hope.

_Maybe..._

The thought felt slightly queasy, but perhaps it was the only way. He had seen it used against muggles often enough and he did know the wand motions.

"Erandur," Harry said as he stood up and looked at the elf. "How little, or hrmn..." He frowned, trying to think of how to ask this, still weighing its rightness of it himself. Finally, he simply asked: "How _much_ is there left of their minds, if we remove them from the miasma and wake them up?"

"Very little. Some of the senior priests might remember something, but... very few of the acolytes, or orcs for that matter, would have any memories of their lives left. I think."

That lifted a weight off of his heart. Just a little bit.

"Hmm... Okay, here's the plan..."

* * *

Harry was so very glad that he had learned the bubble-head charm earlier this year.

It made it possible for them to venture down into the temple without being affected by the gas. Because they couldn't remove the miasma without waking up everyone, and for his plan to work, they would need to get them out one by one.

He had cast it on all of them before they entered, wary of the gas Erandur had been so fretful about. The elf had blasted fire from his hands at the far wall of the room, at a tapestry flowing unnaturally in the deathly stillness of the room, revealing a hidden passage. Immediately, something had begun to flow out, just along the floor. Almost like a thick fog, it barely made it up to their knees, but it still chilled his spine to wade through it.

Walking onward, Erandur had spoken with silent reverence: "Now I can show you the source of the nightmares. Over here..."

They came to a large grated opening; a dark, rusted metal grill, like a jail cell's bars holding something back. An eerie light shone through, casting long shadows against the dark stone walls. They stepped closer and he realized that it was a railing, staring down into the depths below.

"Behold, the Skull of Corruption," Erandur intoned. "The source of Dawnstar's woes."

There, deep beneath them, almost as if carved and dug into the heart of the mountain they had climbed onto, was a large dark sphere that was so obviously dark magic that it made his skin crawl. There was some kind of magical seal on it, he realized. And within, he could barely make out something that could only have been the staff. The air itself seemed to pulse with energy, lapping against his senses that put him on edge.

Swallowing nervously, he stepped back away from the edge. Even with the grating in the way, he didn't feel comfortable looking down at the Skull of Corruption.

"Okay," he said, finding his voice again. "We'll deal with it later."

Erandur turned around and nodded gravely. "It could take days..."

"Then it takes days. I can call my Patronus again, if we need to go back into town again," Harry declared stubbornly.

"...You're right." The priest nodded, but still obviously troubled. "This way, the temple was built around this pit. The stairs will take us down a floor."

Nodding, Harry and Luna followed him. With the foreboding light cast by the staff below, they didn't even need a Lumos. But Luna still almost tripped in the dark stairwell as they descended, the uneven and rough stonework treacherous in the tenebrous descent.

As the floor evened out again, they could see that the way ahead was barred by another glowing barrier.

"Damn it, the priests of Vaermina must have activated the barrier when the Miasma was released," Erandur cursed, his voice echoing against the rock around them.

Something stirred on the floor. Piles of rock and debris clad in shadow seemed to take form, stirred to life by the priest of Mara's voice.

Harry blinked, taken aback as he peered and tried to make sense of the rising shapes. There were two, he realized as one of them sat up and stared back, yawning with a jaw so wide that it could have swallowed Harry's hand whole, with a pair of large tusks poking out from the lower jaw.

Oh, and green skin.

They both blinked. Then suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped it roared. A large hand shot for its waist and drew a wicked-looking axe as it shot to its feet, eyes blazing with murder.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry cried out, the wand shooting the spell instantly and downing the raging brute in one shot. If Erandur hadn't warned him beforehand, this could have gone a lot worse, he realized.

Luna copied his actions, stunning the second shape but a moment later.

"They... must have been awoken by my shout. I should have been more careful..." Erandur said quietly, spooked. "The Miasma must have been slowly seeping out, allowing them to awaken. We should remain as quiet as we can."

Harry nodded. "Luna, you take the other one. We'll go back up and try it there. _Mobilicorpus_."

The unconscious orc began to float, as if pulled aloft by numerous small strings. And as Harry turned to walk back up the stairs, it followed obediently. Luna, Erandur, and the last knocked out figure soon following.

Back by the first room, they found a spot where there was a little bit of room and set down the two unconscious bodies. At some point Erandur had lit a torch with his fiery hands, giving them a bit more light, and now they could all see that the two indeed had distinctly green skin, coarse black hair and impressive tusks jutting out of their large mouths.

This was certainly no house elf. In fact, it was much more reminiscent of the trolls he had seen years ago. At least they smelled better, if only slightly.

"So... This is an orc?"

They were both very big and muscular, as well. One was wearing what looked like furs and some pieces rusted iron armour, while the other was fully garbed in some sort of dull, dark green armour that covered his whole body. The axe that he had tried to swing at Harry had been left behind, but he didn't feel particularly sorry about that.

The priest nodded. "Indeed. This must be a warchief, judging by his impressive helmet."

Harry exhaled, nodding in understanding. Pointing his wand at the unconscious orc, he spoke: "_Incarcerous_."

Ropes appeared out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around the orc.

Luna frowned, brows twitching as she stared at her wand for a second. Then, she too tried: "Incarcerous."

But nothing happened.

"Oh, right." Harry blinked. It was a NEWT-level conjuration — not something Luna would be familiar with by herself. Levelling his own wand the second orc he repeated the spell, tying a loop with the tip through the air as he spoke. "_Incarcerous._ I'll teach it to you later, Luna."

She nodded, not at all bothered as she put her wand back behind her ear. "Alright, Harry."

"You're very accomplished mages for being so young," Erandur commented, sounding very impressed by the magic he had seen.

Harry almost flushed at the praise, suddenly very thankful for the cover of darkness, but cleared his throat to focus. "Thank you."

If Erandur really was as old as he seemed, then that was probably honest praise. Of course, it did not speak much to how common witches and wizards were in Skyrim. Did they have any schools of magic here, and how accomplished would the teachers there be?

_Maybe I could ask for help, if there is one here...?_

He shook his head, inhaling slowly as he pointed his wand at the first orc again.

"Okay, stand back... _Rennervate_."

The orc twitched, immediately jolting awake as if he had been shocked. Dark eyes wide, teeth gritting, the presumed-warchief growled at them as the conjured ropes strained. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something, but then only incoherent shouting followed.

Grimacing, Harry looked at Erandur.

The priest could only shrug helplessly. "His mind has been broken, as I suspected. He has been under the Miasma too long."

"Okay," Harry replied and raised his wand again. "Here goes nothing... _Confundo_."

The warchief blinked, as if stumbling over his previous rage, and then stared vacantly ahead at nothing.

"Did... did it work?" Erandur whispered, but Luna shushed at him.

"Erm..." Harry began, realizing that perhaps he should have prepared something before he cast the spell. But, forging on, he spoke. "There's been a terrible accident. You've lost your memory."

The orc blinked slowly.

"You're an orc, and your name is... uh... _Tom_," he said, grasping for the first name that came to mind. Ignoring the confused expression the elf was wearing, he continued: "Everything is going to be okay."

With that, Harry lowered his wand and allowed the spell to wane. The orc—Tom, hopefully, now—blinked twice, still appearing very confused and off-balance.

"How do you feel?" Luna asked, leaning closer.

"Urh...I feel..." With a voice like cracking stone, the orc looked at her. "Where am I?"

"This used to be a place called nightcaller temple, do you remember that?" she continued.

"...No...?"

Luna nodded, appearing very sympathetic. "Can you remember your name?"

"It's... _T_om?" The name came out funny through tusked jaws, obviously a sound he wasn't used to pronouncing.

"Harry." She turned to look at him, expression grave. "I don't think Tom is his name."

He frowned, almost snapping at her that it was the first name that had come to mind, but then shook his head. This was working, it was fine. Instead, he turned to Erandur. "Well, what would an orc be called, then?"

The elf blinked at being put on the spot. "Oh, err... Uh, B-Bhor...gash?"

"Okay, then that one is Ghorbash," Harry declared flippantly, pointing at the other orc, still out cold.

Luna nodded seriously, then opined: "That is a very pretty name. I'm sure she'll be very happy with it."

Harry said nothing, not entirely sure whether that was true or even whether there were orc women. Stealing a peek at the chest of the still-unconscious orc, he decided that he _probably_ wasn't a girl.

* * *

It was slow work and they could only bring back two at a time most trips down, since Erandur didn't know any spells able to carry anyone heavier than himself.

They had to look for another way down, because of the barrier they had run into earlier, after which they began to find devotees of Vaermina. All clad in purple robes, they appeared to be just as confused and rabid as the orcs when they were brought up. They were also much more diverse; many of them were women and there were many, many more elves among them. Some with golden yellow skin, others with a healthy brown tan, and a few with the same dark grey pallor that Erandur had.

Luna seemed very excited, several times wishing that she had had a quill and parchment with her as they continued their rescue efforts. She grew even more excited when Erandur informed her that technically—though not recognized by all—orcs were a race of elves as well, naming the races as they continued—Altmer, Bosmer, Dunmer, Orsimer...

Harry had been worried that the orcs and the devotees might grow rowdy when left alone, especially with one another. But they seemed very calm—if also very confused—after the confundus charm was applied. For a while he was also worried that they might react negatively to seeing it used on others, realizing what had been done to them, but none of them seemed to have the presence of mind for such reactions.

Which was good, because he really did not have the stomach for any more fighting.

The decrepit and long-dead bodies of orcs and cultists littered the gas-filled chambers as they continued to descend further down. Once there might have been a hundred people down in the temple, put together, but so far they had only managed to find thirty still alive. He tried not to think too hard about those forty-some dead below. They had died years before he could have done anything to help them, years before he had even been born.

Strangely enough, the hardest part turned out to be figuring out enough names for all of them. Especially as he had begun to name them after people he knew, lacking better ideas.

Maybe he needed more friends. Something to look into once they were back.

And, he had figured that leaving Luna to her own devices after confunding the orcs might not have been his brightest idea, after she named a trio 'Pinkie Smash', 'Twilight Slash', and 'Rainbow Bash'. Though the orcs in question did seem very pleased with their names.

Of course, that was only for the orcs. As it turned out, Erandur was quickly able to come up with names for any of the acolytes they brought back, often spoken with a very solemn expression. Harry hadn't asked about it, but he was beginning to have an idea as to how come the priest was so familiar with the temple.

But that would have to wait.

"It's getting late..." Harry said, stifling another yawn.

Outside, the sun had already begun to set. It would be another few hours before nightfall. But if they wanted to make it back to Dawnstar, they would have to start walking down the mountain now.

Of course, there was still the problem of what to do with all of the people they had rescued and confunded. They couldn't exactly leave them here and come back tomorrow. But taking them to town would bring its own set of problems as well, not the least of which housing all of them for the night and feeding them.

"You're right." Erandur agreed surprisingly easily. "We will be here the whole night and risk falling asleep ourselves, Miasma or no, if we think to continue any longer."

Nodding, Harry wondered how he should broach the subject he had been worrying about. Because—

"I suppose... We will have to find someplace for them to stay for the night. Perhaps the mines... The inns and bunkhouses will all be full, I fear."

_Because_, he would have to use the money he had to help these people. The money he had made by selling Luna's dress. The money they needed for getting back. _Her _money. And even though he wanted to help these people—and Luna so far apparently agreed with him—it would still feel like betraying her, somehow.

"I will gather them together and prepare for the descent. You two may rest, you have done so much already," the priest said, turning away.

The foyer was completely packed, forcing them to continuously move deeper. Having taken one of the benches with them, they were now deep enough that the eerie light of the Skull of Corruption was visible.

Sighing and not really knowing how to broach the subject, Harry turned to face his companion. "Luna, there's something... uh..."

She turned to look at him with half-lidded eyes, appearing very tired. It had been a long day and while he had been casting most of the difficult magic, she hadn't been slacking off by any means.

"It's about when we get back to town..." Looking away, he spoke quietly, feeling even guiltier now.

Luna tilted her head, peering at him quizzically. He couldn't tell what was going through her head, as usual, so he could only sigh and come out with it.

"We... might have to use the money we got from... You know, _before_, if we want to find everyone a place. To sleep for the night, I mean..."

Her stare remained unchanged. She didn't even blink, her pale blue eyes simply boring through him in the darkness, glittering with the reflections of the eldritch glow on the walls.

He was starting to get a little bit nervous when she finally blinked. There was just a glimmer of something in there, for just a moment.

"Oh, that's alright Harry."

But then she smiled and turned her gaze away, staring straight ahead while kicking her feet up and down. For just a moment, he wanted to ask again, to clarify, but then Erandur was there.

"We're ready to go."

Harry nodded, peeking at Luna one more time before he adjusted his glasses and got up. "Alright."

"The town guard will not like this," Erandur continued as they began to move out of the keep. "But I will speak on their behalf. Hopefully, that will be enough."

Outside the sun was still in the sky, but had begun its obvious dip into the west. Harry had also been a bit worried about the sabre cats, but they weren't around any longer, _luckily_. And so, the ragtag amnesiac caravan of orcs and purple-swathed acolytes began their trek down the mountain towards Dawnstar.

* * *

**Funny story, I got stuck the moment they got to Nightcaller Temple.**

**See the thing about Skyrim is, that it's a very shitty place. By that, I mean the game is literally constantly trying to railroad you into being a murderhobo, which doesn't really easily work with Harry Potter of all things. Because when you think about how most of the quests in the game, the way they're solved is usually the _worst possible way_. ****I recall this one dungeon in the Rift, where some woman is mind-controlling a bunch of people—Vigilants of Stendarr, I think—and the game wants you to cut them all down and then kill her. So, I think, "Nah, I've _got _this." and sneak past them all so I can assassinate her and hopefully free all the Vigilants.**

**But nope, they all instantly die the moment she's killed. There's no way to save them.**

**I mean, a world where "murder everyone and take their stuff" is not just an acceptable outcome for nearly every situation, but pretty much the preferred solution, isn't exactly what I'd call a very nice place to be. Fun, for a certain definition of the word, certainly. But not nice.**

**So I started thinking about how the fuck exactly Harry would react to this shit and it took me a while to get a decent solution. Basically, magic! The confundus is just the right amount of whimsical fridge horror, that it works as a Harry Potter-style solution. Especially with how careless they got with the names. So I'm pretty satisfied with that, for now. Next chapter will keep it going and tie it up, so that the story can move on.**


	5. Treasure Within and Without

The silvery hare made of mist and mischief danced through Harry's dreams all night.

When he woke up, he wasn't quite sure if he had just gone to sleep or woken up at first. Then the aching and soreness settled in and he knew it was the morning after, at which point his surreal dreams began to make sense as well.

Luna had volunteered to cast the Patronus charm last night, once they had made it back. He had all but collapsed into his bed after dinner, sleeping soundly through the night.

"Oww... oww..."

Gingerly, he sat up and swung his feet out of bed, wincing at the cold floor as his bare skin touched down. That wasn't all. He felt clammy and dirty, too. With everything that had been going on, he hadn't had a chance to wash in _days_.

Raising an arm, he took a tentative sniff under his armpit and recoiled. "Ugh..."

Definitely needed to wash himself.

Harry considered using a _scourgify_ on himself for just a second, before dismissed the thought with a disdainful sniff. He wanted to _wash_ himself. Not clean or scrub or scour himself. That meant hot water. And soap. Was there any soap to be had here?

But hot water was a must. Getting out of bed and clothed—the clothes he would _scourgify_ at least, because they stank too—he left the room. As had become usual no one else was awake yet, but the still and snoring forms of orcs and acolytes around the fireplace greeted him outside his room.

_How can they sleep after waking up from a hundred-year nap...?_ Maybe it was just him, but he would feel ill at ease about it.

Maybe they were still simply too tired and lost to think about it through. In that, they were like children; they _needed _help. It had cost him more than he would have liked, but the Windpeak Inn was the only place in town with a warm place to sleep on such short notice. Thoring had been sympathetic but hadn't budged on the cost below 5 septims per head, putting a considerable dent into their coin pouch.

And so far it didn't seem like it would become any easier today, either.

The town's guard had not taken kindly to the influx of heavily armoured—few still had weapons, as Harry and Luna hadn't bothered to bring them out of the temple—orcs and cowled former cultists into Dawnstar. Erandur had had to go speak to the Jarl himself, Skald the Elder, to allow them to stay.

Harry hadn't heard anything directly, but the townspeople had heard the priest argue that the vanishing of the nightmares plaguing the townsfolk was because of his goddess Mara, conditional upon the helping of the victims they had brought to town. That had seemed to work, seeing as how they had been allowed to stay in town.

He could still pay for another few nights, but if he had to factor in food and clothes...

It wasn't going to work.

Even if he worked his butt off, there was no way he could do it. After a life of having no money and then having all the money he could ever want—stuck in his bank vault, but still there—it was a fairly rough introduction to balancing personal economics. No stable source of income and dozens of mouths to feed; his respect for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley grew with every passing day here, taking care of the rescued amnesiacs.

Worse yet, he had nothing in common with them and no idea _how _to even help them.

Realizing he was getting worked up again, he almost slammed the door shut behind him as he exited his room. He really needed a bath to calm down. Maybe he would think of something once he was clean. He shook his head, quietly sneaking past the sleeping figures towards the counter to see if anyone had woken up yet.

Of course, there wasn't. Looking up at the rafters, he could see that it was still nearly dark outside. The obvious result of having gone to sleep so early, he supposed rather blithely.

He really wanted a bath. But how?

At the Dursleys and at Hogwarts warm water was just there at the turn of a knob. He vaguely understood that one was produced through technology and electricity and the other through magic, but that didn't really mean he really understood either. Did the muggles put the electricity into the water to warm it up? The telly used to get really hot when left on for long times and it too ran on electricity.

And since when did he think of the muggles as something completely separate from himself, Harry wondered with a frown.

Shaking his head, he instead tried to think about how the showers and baths worked in Hogwarts. Through magic, obviously. Could he simply use the water-making spell to make bathwater, then? He had used it for a quick drink often enough, so it should be safe enough to bathe in, right? _But it's going to be way too cold._

Surreptitiously, he checked his surroundings as he drew his wand. Everyone was still asleep, meaning that he wouldn't have to go outside to try.

Cupping his left hand in front of the wand, he whispered the incantation: "_Aguamenti,_" as a minuscule jet of water spurted out to fill his hand.

Harry frowned.

It wasn't warm. It wasn't really cold either. It was just... _water_.

Putting away his wand with a frown, he hesitated with the handful of water he still had. Could he just throw it away? He wasn't really thirsty and his hand was just as dusty and sweaty as the rest of him was — not really something he wanted to drink out of.

"Hello, Harry."

He jumped, surprised by the sudden voice behind him, managing to splash himself with the water in the process. Blinking, still reeling a little from his surprise face wash, he didn't react until Luna peeked curiously at him.

"Morning, Luna," he managed to say as water dripped down his face, a few droplets threatening to tickle his nose as he inhaled slowly. "Sleep well?"

"Oh, yes. It didn't rain in my room, you see."

He wasn't sure if she was making a joke, and it was just too early in his opinion for that, so he only nodded. "Right, that's good. Let's eat breakfast and see if Erandur is ready to go."

And even as he said that he felt bad at snapping at her the way he had. But she only nodded, appearing wholly unaffected, which only served to remind him of the money again, and about helping everyone, and about how dirty and itchy he felt and...

Sighing and shaking his head, he followed her to a table in the corner where they could eat their previously bought rations.

* * *

"We will not be able to advance much further like this," Erandur spoke up, his voice acquiring a slight reverb from the bubble-head charm. "The barrier has cut off all ways ahead."

Harry was inclined to agree.

They had been at it for another few hours and had managed to find another seven sleepers, of whom only two had been orcs, as apparently the war party had not been able to penetrate into the temple's deepest reaches before the miasma had been called forth. But now they were having difficulties getting deeper and he was starting to think they should just go back up, tear the steel bars and jump down to the bottom to get to the staff.

Getting back up might be a challenge, especially if they found more sleepers, but with magic, it shouldn't be impossible.

He was just about to suggest it when the priest continued.

"But there might be a way to take it down." Erandur inhaled, looking over his shoulder, back towards the stairs. "I will need to confirm first if it will work, and the recipe itself. We should find it in the library."

"A potion?" Luna asked.

Erandur nodded a touch hesitantly. "Perhaps."

Harry shrugged. "Alright, lead the way."

It had become more and more apparent that the elf knew the temple quite intimately, but until now he had been quite tight-lipped regarding the source of his familiarity. While an annoyance, it wasn't really a problem. Yet.

Or so Harry hoped, eyeing the priest's back as they walked back up.

The library hadn't changed since they had cleared it; two floors with dozens of bookshelves lining the walls and littering the lower floor. Most had been overturned, with burned and rotted books sprawled all over the floor. Hermione would have been horrified had she been there to see the utter bibiliocide that had taken place here.

"We're looking for a book of alchemical recipes called the Dreamstride," Erandur said as they stopped. "The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover."

Harry grunted, not inclined to believe the book to have survived. Even so, he did not argue and began to look around, using a lighting charm on his wand for aid. Luna, on the other hand, seemed to quite enjoy perusing the various books and tomes, not minding their state of decay and destruction much as she poked around.

In the end, it was she who found the tome in question, skipping over to Erandur with an incredibly thick book in her hand. "Here you go."

"Oh...! Let me take a look," the priest uttered, accepting the book with trepidation. It only took him a few seconds to find the relevant section, his dark red eyes crinkling as he looked up. "Mara be praised; there is a way past the barrier to the inner sanctum."

Neither Hogwarts' student said a word as they waited for him to continue.

"It involves a recipe for a liquid known as _Vaermina's Torpor_. A potion as you suspected."

Luna beamed at the confirmation.

"It grants the person who drinks it the ability the priests of Vaermina called the _Dreamstride_."

"Shocking," Harry muttered quietly, glancing at the book.

But neither of the other two noticed, too enamoured with the potion by now. "Using dreams to travel distances in the real world."

"Oh, amazing," Luna gushed.

"Yes, quite amazing. Alchemy and the blessings of a divine distilled down into a... digestible liquid."

Frowning, Harry asked: "So these daedrics are divine?"

"What? No." Startled, the priest looked up. "Or... perhaps. It is _complicated_." Again, Erandur looked at them as if trying to weigh how much to say; how much he needed to explain, given how little they obviously knew. "The word _daedra_ comes from old merish, meaning _not our ancestors, _denoting... timeless beings in the realms of Oblivion. They are neither mortals, nor are they _Aedra_, the divine ancestors from whom we descend."

The two students blinked quietly.

Erandur shook his head. "It does not matter, much. Most men prefer not to think about the daedra overmuch, fearing them for good reason. It is... different for mer. Dunmer in particular."

"Oh."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that. It somehow sounded like the kind of demon worship that Vernon had sometimes raved about; satanism, Lucifer, and the devil.

Shaking his head, the priest's gaze returned to the book as he looked back and forth through a set of pages intently. "Getting back on topic... I've sadly yet to see the Dreamstride work. And as a sworn priest of Mara—one of the Aedra—the liquid will not work for me..."

Immediately warning bells rang in Harry's head. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, I would like very much to try it," Luna said, just as quickly.

"Luna...!" He reeled at her, brows furrowed behind his glasses.

"It's just a potion, Harry."

He shook his head. "Potions are _dangerous_, Luna." If he had learned something from five years of Potions with Snape—and more importantly, Neville—it was that potions were in fact _very_ dangerous. "Even if it does what it's supposed to and we can brew it right, who knows what will happen! Without Madam Pomfrey..."

"Frida could help us, I'm sure," Luna interjected.

Harry blinked, his earlier vehemence deflating as he paused to consider it. By the sidelines, Erandur was quietly hiding behind his book. Harry shook his head, then. "No."

If something happened to Luna, he wouldn't know what to do. It was too far away to town and there was no way that Frida would know about a potion like that. It would be much safer to tear a way down to the staff from the upper levels. They could then—

"If it was you drinking the potion, you wouldn't hesitate for a minute," Luna said with a frown bordering on a pout.

He froze.

"W-what?"

She shook her head, the dissatisfied expression vanishing. "It's nothing, Harry. If you don't want to, then I won't drink the potion."

Harry blinked, at a loss for words.

"There..." Erandur spoke, hesitating for a moment before continuing as he glanced at the both of them. "There should be a potion in the laboratory, still, so we will not need to brew it ourselves. And none of the ingredients listed are dangerous on their own, see here..."

He turned the book over to show the list of ingredients, writing in a small, flowing script across the yellowing pages of the massive tome. Frowning, Harry looked at the recipe even though he knew he would not recognize any of the ingredients.

"Even if none of the ingredients are dangerous by themselves, that doesn't mean the potion itself is safe," he said as he dug his heels in, starting to get annoyed that they were both arguing against him now.

The priest blinked and then frowned, curious.

"I do not claim to be a great master of alchemy... But I do possess a skill at least equal to that of Frida, Dawnstar's alchemist." Erandur closed the book, standing straight now. "And to brew a poison or potion with harmful effects, I know that it requires at least two of the ingredients to possess the same harmful effect. I am certain that this potion will not be dangerous."

Harry licked his lips, confused. Despite his Exceeding Expectations in his Potions O.W.L.s, he had never heard anything like that before. He thought back to his and Luna's visit to Frida's shop, and how he hadn't recognized many of the complicated devices and implements in her shop.

What did he know about _alchemy_? Wasn't that something Dumbledore had been famous for, while had been working with Flamel? Something about dragon's blood? They had never used any dragon's blood in potions and he had never heard of any potion that used it as an ingredient...

"Well..."

Hesitating, he looked at Luna and it struck him at that moment that she did really want to try the potion. It sounded like the wondrous and whimsical thing she would tell you about, so it was little wonder that her whimsy was to drink it and experience it for herself. The ball of worry in his gut tightened but at the same time, he thought that he deserved to give her this after how badly he had been screwing things up until now.

Harry sighed, slumping in defeat. "Alright, then. If you think it's safe and it's the only way down, and you want to try it, Luna..." Grimacing, he forced the next words out. "Then, okay."

Luna's bright smile in response to words almost managed to ease away his worries. But not quite.

* * *

Harry tapped his feet nervously, staring at the barrier as he kept his wand in his hand.

Finding a phial of Vaermina's Torpor had been unexpectedly easy since they had gone through the laboratory already when scouring for survivors the day before. Harry had thought that perhaps there was a danger of the potion having gone bad, but the numerous ingredients and other potions strewn about, completely fine and fresh, had quashed that complaint before he had even thought to voice it out loud.

So Luna had drunk the potion in one go and had promptly disappeared as if she had cast on his invisibility cloak, which bothered Harry considerably. Only Erandur's calm and impressed reaction had kept him from freaking out and they had moved down to where the barrier still blocked their path. Fretting still, Harry couldn't help but look at the pulsating light pooling out from the depths to his left. Below, the thrumming power of the staff beckoned them and he couldn't help but make a face.

Clucking his tongue, he wondered again where Luna had vanished just as she reappeared in front of them, the barrier that had been blocking their path vanishing in the same instant.

"Hello Harry," she said with a wide-eyed smile, wearing the same expression of exhilaration he recognized from himself whenever he'd come back from a wild broom-ride.

"Luna! You're okay...!"

She nodded and looked down at her hand, holding a large crystal of some sort.

"It—_It worked!_ Mara be praised!" Erandur exclaimed astonished. "You vanished after drinking the torpor... I had not—" Only Harry's stare made the elf calm down, as he realized that the earlier calm had only been to disguise uncertainty and worry. Erandur cleared his throat. "Yes, well... How was it?"

"It was quite wonderful and frightful. I dreamt I was Casimir, you see."

The priest blanched, blinking and leaning back as if he had been struck. "O-oh..."

"Casimir?" Harry repeated, looking at Erandur. He had been suspecting something, but that settled it.

Noticing their stares, Erandur coughed and tried to look as if he hadn't noticed. "We should keep going. With the soul gem gone and the barrier removed, the Miasma will begin to weaken even faster. Those inside still asleep will soon begin to awaken on their own."

Luna nodded serenely and Harry shrugged, still eyeing the priest suspiciously.

The continued down, now spiralling directing around the central pit as they brought up more and more sleepers, repeating the procedure with all of them. Like yesterday, there were very few problems after the initial confused anger and fight drained out of the people. They seemed lost and more than a little scared, huddling together in the upper floors, always receiving them with wide-eyed curiosity as they brought another survivor back up.

They had made it to the lowest level already.

When bringing up the last sleepers, Harry had been able to see the staff just ahead, surrounded by the spherical, pulsating barrier that sealed within its terrible, dark power.

And he hadn't been the only one; Erandur had been growing increasingly nervous as they had gone on. By the end, he had been looking around every nook, cranny, and corner for any more sleepers, his dread over the final stretch obvious to Harry. So somehow, despite the numerous times, they had already descended down these stairs the past two days, this time it felt different. There was a tension in the air, an expectation of _something._

The stairs ended and the last door before them. Ahead Harry could see the altar and the stairway up to the staff on the pedestal. Somehow there were still lit candles lining up the stairs, giving enough light for the hanging moss and spider web to be visible.

"So... What happens now?" he asked, turning to the elf.

"Oh, ah." Erandur blinked, coughing before he continued, the tension draining out of him. "Now we simply perform the ritual granted to me by Mara. With that, the nightmares should come to an end."

"That's it?" Harry asked.

Erandur nodded, smiling slightly. "That is it."

"Alright, let's do it."

Even so, Harry kept his wand at the ready as they moved forward. The roiling darkness pulled at his nerves and he couldn't help but look at the dancing shadows in every corner of the room as if something was about the jump out and attack them at any moment.

So when the sound of a sword being drawn came from ahead, he wasn't surprised.

"Wait..." Erandur whispered tensely. His eyes widened as two figures emerged from ahead, clad in purple robes. "Veren, Thorek... You're alive!"

"No thanks to you, Casimir," came the deep, venomous reply. It was another elf, his skin the same ash-like pallour as Erandur's, with a set of burning red eyes that glowed with a deep hatred.

Harry glanced at Erandur's back, noting how the elf shook for a moment before standing up straighter. "...I no longer use that name. I am Erandur, a priest of Mara."

Hadn't Luna called him that earlier, too? _So that's how it was._

"You're a _traitor_. You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you."

Erandur took a step back as if he had been slapped. "No. I... I was scared. I wasn't ready to sleep."

"_Enough._" The other, who had been silent until now, standing with a sword drawn spat. "They're here to destroy the Skull, so they must die. No matter who they might have once been."

"Thorek..." Erandur sounded pained now.

Harry licked his lips, glancing nervously at Luna. Which was when the fight began.

"Die, traitor!" someone shouted as the first blast of lighting arc forward, blindingly bright in the darkness.

"_Protego!_" Harry shouted, closing his eyes on reflex, not even knowing who the spell was aimed at. The next second was a mad scramble for the wall as everyone was shouting and the blasting spellfire made seeing or hearing anything next to impossible.

Grunting as his shoulder hit the left-hand wall, Harry opened his eyes and crouched down. Erandur had taken the brunt of the spells, he realized, but was still standing and conscious, blasting great gouts and lances of fire back with equal vigour.

He realized at the same moment that he had managed to walk straight into a huge patch of spider's web lining the corner, but he ignored that. Raising his wand he took aim at the other elf.

"_Stupefy!_"

The bright red spell struck the cultist like a bludger from the side. But it failed to put him down, as the purple-robed elf shook his head and turned to look Harry's way. An arm extended out, sending a stream of crackling lightning, but Harry was already moving out of the way.

A second later a much stronger bolt of lightning struck out from the elf's other hand, almost deafening Harry with its thunderous crack against the stone wall, setting the spider's web alight and charring the dark green moss.

"_Protego!_"

Harry saw as much as he heard Luna's spell, the bright white shield causing the arcing bolt of electricity to ricochet and veer off and into the wall on the opposite side of the room, the brilliant bubble dimming with every passing second under the crackling onslaught.

Erandur split his hands in two, sending long whips of flame to lick at the two cultists, giving Harry and Luna both a moment's reprieve. But a second later the sword-wielding human was charging at him and forcing him to stop casting lest he lose his head.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry cried out again, casting the red bolt at the purple-clad elf once more. But this time he had been ready, a shield spell of his own erupting into place an instant before the bolt reached him, stopping and rebounding the stunning charm straight back at Harry.

Eyes wide, he jumped to the side again to dodge his own spell. But just as it missed him, the spell in the elf's other hand was loosed: a long stream of the thin lightning, crackling and painfully locking up Harry's muscles as he stumbled on the floor.

Continuous and agonizing, it left him seized on the floor. Nowhere near as potent as the _Crucio _curse, it was still a long moment of white torture. The instant it ended, Harry rolled as best he could out and away as a second more potent lightning bolt licked the floor with a deafening crack.

Wand at the ready, Harry's eyes blazed as he managed to get back up on a knee. Screaming, he cast the point of the wand at the elf and unleashed his newfound fury. "_INCENDIO!_"

The thick stream of flame consumed the width of the doorway and for just a second Harry had time to see the sheer surprise on the dark elf's face before he jumped behind the corner for cover.

Luna cried out, the pained sound cutting through the haze of Harry's fury.

He turned, just in time to see Erandur on the floor and Luna falling down against the wall as the sword-wielding human's electricity spell arced out from his left palm at her, the continuous and thin streams harrowing her.

His mind went blank as he let go of the flames and slammed his wand at the human, shouting out: "_Reducto!_"

The man turned and flinched, raising his golden-bright sword in the way of the spell on pure accident. It shattered with an explosion that scratched up his face and hand, forcing him to let go of the weak lightning spell but little else.

Again, Harry pointed his wand and screamed: "_Reducto!_"

Another shield, but this time he was already on his feet and moving out of the way before it was reflected back at him. He needed something stronger; something that put down his enemy before either Luna or Erandur were hurt again.

The words he had read in passing sprung to mind immediately, the dry parchment's texture and smell popping out unbidden at the same time, like the book was right in front of him and he was reading it right now. The words, right there.

_—-—For Enemies._

He raised the wand, like the hilt of the sword he had just shattered as the words came out as a hateful cry to accompany the swing.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

The man's shield sprung into existence again but this time it was different. The sound of shattering glass and crushed stone as the shield broke with minimal resistance. A staggering step back, followed by a wet gurgle as the cultist fell over in the darkness like a puppet with its strings cut.

Satisfied that the man was harmless now, Harry grinned and turned left to face the remaining elf. Erandur was back up, sending long gouts of flame at the other and Harry joined with his own stream of _Incendio_, seeing that the shields could not reflect the flames properly for whatever reason.

"You heathens will know, khh... Vaermina's vengeance for this! Traitor!"

Harry ignored the shout, his flames intensifying as he stepped up and approached the last enemy. He didn't let up until he heard the sound of the shield breaking and saw Erandur's flames ceasing. Lowering his wand, he blinked as he saw the priest of Mara clutching his hands and cupping two balls of fire in his hands.

Erandur cast his hands forward, the two bolts of fire shooting forward and crashing into the panting elf in purple and slamming him into the back wall. Harry almost shouted out, realizing that this was a matter of death now. But not done yet, Erandur had drawn a cudgel from his waist and was rushing the other elf. And with a powerful swing, it connected with the bent over form.

The last remaining cultist of Vaermina dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Harry turned back to check on Luna. She, too, was back on her feet. Or rather, knees as she had crouched down next to the man Harry had put down just moment's before. Her wand was out and for a moment he thought that there was still fight left in the man until he spotted the pooling patch of darkness around his torso.

Harry froze, realizing he could _smell_ the blood.

Luna was trying to cast the spell she had used on him at the start of the year, but the _Episkey _wasn't doing anything to staunch the flow of blood. A few last rasping breaths and then the lying man stilled, glassy eyes staring at the ceiling.

Harry blinked, not understanding what had happened.

His eyes bored at the ugly rend in the middle of the man's chest, right where the _Sectumsempra _had been aimed. _I... did this?_ He realized, his mind like molasses.

"He's dead..." Luna said quietly as she stood up, solemn. There was blood, staining her left sleeve and the knees of her trousers. Flinching, Harry looked away, still unable to think. He looked at Erandur, who was checking on the other elf and realized that he too had been killed.

Shaking his head, he tried not to think about it.

"Are you hurt? How do you feel?"

That stream of lightning had been painful, but compared to the _Crucio _it wasn't so bad. There was still some tingling in his fingers, but the bone-deep exhaustion and pain he had experienced before just wasn't there.

Luna nodded, making a quiet sound before she spoke. "I'm alright, Harry." She walked up to him, eyes peering in the darkness, the purple and red light of the barrier up ahead reflecting from them. Her eyes felt piercing and he had to look away.

"We should check up on Erandur..." he said weakly and turned away, hearing Luna's soft murmur of agreement behind.

The elf priest was standing there, panting and staring down at the motionless and burned body propped against the wall. There were patches of black, where the bolts of electricity had charred his pale robes, but he appeared mostly unharmed.

Harry sniffed at the smell, starting to feel a little nauseous. But ignoring that, he spoke out. "Erandur."

"What...?" The elf recoiled and blinked, surprised and shocked. "I... Yes. I am fine. Thank you for your concern." Licking his lips, his eyes were drawn back to the still body. "This was... difficult for me." He swallowed audibly and shook his head, lowering his gaze to the floor before him. "I was once a part of Vaermina's acolytes... Casimir, was my name once upon a time. I had friends here, and... and I ran away. Too afraid to go into eternal sleep with them."

He looked up, meeting their eyes.

"I had sealed away the entrance... Had thought to hide away my past—my _shame_. Knowing that everyone here would die. But then you two came and Mara granted me a vision. I thought that perhaps I could... Correct my wrongs, somehow, by destroying the Skull and freeing Dawnstar from these nightmares.

"And then... And then you began saving them. My old friends... I felt so ashamed, and so relieved, and so afraid. That I hadn't thought of doing so myself, that I had missed them so, that my past might be revealed and... And... I didn't know what to do..." Erandur was shaking his head now, still avoiding their eyes.

Harry waited, glancing at Luna. She didn't seem surprised, looking at the priest with a small smile, like she was glad that he was coming forth with this now. She had called him Casimir earlier; had she seen his past when she drank that potion and known about all of this?

"I... I had hoped that Veren and Thorek would have forgotten who they had been as well, so that perhaps... I could begin anew with them."

Erandur shook his head, looking at the still form of the dead elf on the ground and then back to the man whose life Harry had taken, who had bled out on the cold stone floor behind them.

"Is this my punishment, then?"

Not knowing what to say and feeling very awkward, Harry hanged back. But Luna strode forward and past him, placing a hand on the elf's elbow.

"The nightmare isn't past yet, Erandur."

Harry cringed, not sure if it was the time or place to remind Erandur about the staff, but by the looks of it, it helped the priest to overcome some of his black mood.

"Yes... Yes, you're right. Forgive me. I shouldn't have forgotten," the elf said and looked up, his eyes looking at the steel-barred windows to the higher floors. "Come, let us finish this, so we may finally return to Dawnstar."

Nodding, Luna stepped back and allowed the priest to begin walking up to the dais in the middle of the temple. The stairs leading up to the barrier were almost high enough that you could have reached for the floor above, given how high the staff had been placed.

The barrier rippled and shivered as he came to a halt.

"This will take some time," Erandur said. "But it must be done."

And then he began to speak in a quiet voice, his hands extended and grasping at the spherical barrier.

Harry looked on, feeling a little bit awkward with being unable to help. Glancing at Luna, he wondered how she had known what to say. Which was when the voice spoke into his mind, whispering out of nowhere and everywhere at once.

"_He's deceiving you. When the ritual's complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you...!_"

"Huh?!" He looked left and right, alarmed at the sudden female voice yet unable to see who was talking.

"_Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own!_"

Harry blinked and frowned. That... did not seem particularly likely, given how distraught the elf had been moments before. Still, even if most of Harry's suspicions about the elf had been put to rest with the revelations of his past, there was still just a hint of it left...

"_Vaermina commands you!_"

"Oh, okay. Never mind then." Harry shook his head and looked at Luna. "Did you hear that?"

She nodded, silvery-blue eyes somehow dancing almost merrily. "What a curious lady."

He chuffed, amused and agreeing.

Another minute passed until finally, there was a flash of light and the barrier vanished, staff included. Erandur let out a sigh of relief, standing up straight as he turned around to walk back down to join Harry and Luna.

"It is done. The staff has been destroyed."

The elf looked haggard and drawn, but satisfied all the same as he walked the last few steps down. He walked with a new air about himself, standing just a touch taller and greater than before.

"What now?" Harry asked. "Was that it...?"

He hoped it was — everything that had happened now was confusing, he felt tired and hurt. The realization that he had killed someone in the heat of a fight weighed on him now, as did the realization that he had done so on accident. Using a spell he hadn't properly understood. _Hermione was right about the book..._

"Now..." Erandur spoke, drawing strength from the word. "Now we return to Dawnstar. And I care for those whom I had failed before. Last night, I shirked from my duty, as both a priest of Mara and someone who once knew those people we saved the Vaermina's grasp...

"That was shameful of me and I apologize that it took your intervention for me to realize it. You should not have been forced to bear that burden alone."

Harry blinked, thoroughly taken aback. Was he talking about the money? Almost reassuring the elf that it was alright, Harry bit his tongue as he realized that it wasn't just fine; it had been Luna's money. Not his. Turning to look at her, he noticed she was smiling quietly.

Their eyes met as she noticed his looking and he thought he saw a twinkle of satisfaction there. But she said nothing, content in her quiet and satisfied in her silence.

"I wish I could pay you back somehow for all that you have done... But, as it is, we will be struggling to find a place for everyone to sleep tonight." The priest shook his head. "But, if either of you ever need my help, I will be honoured to assist you any way I can. Call upon me whenever you have need and I shall be there."

Feeling slightly overwhelmed and slightly thankful for the darkness hiding his expression, Harry only nodded.

"Would it be alright if we took the gold coins lying around here, then?" Luna asked suddenly. "I'm sure everyone won't mind paying for themselves."

Erandur and Harry both blinked and turned to look at her.

"Ah... Yes? Yes, of course. That would help immensely. I will, of course, repay you for your gold last night, too, with whatever you can find" Erandur answered, his expression brightening immediately.

"So. it's a treasure hunt in the dark." Harry shrugged, already liking the idea even if he wanted nothing more than to leave this dark and damp pit behind already.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Luna's eye. She raised her wand and enunciated clearly: "_Aurum Revelio_."

Harry's blinked, recognizing the revealing charm but not what it was looking for. But as Luna turned to look at the dead elf, his eyes realized what she had spotted. A pouch tied at the waist, bulging with what looked suspiciously like gold coins.

"Oh..."

His elation warred with the morbid realization that he needed to touch a dead body, confusing him once more.

"A spell to douse for gold? How curious." Erandur had noticed what they were looking at. Then, he spoke more solemnly. "Why don't you two head on up... I will... I will say my last goodbyes to them and bring up the gold with me."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice to come out alright. Peeking at Luna, he nodded towards the stairs and she followed without saying another word. He would be thinking about those two dead bodies more than enough in the future without staying any longer down here.

* * *

Pockets and pouches overflowing with gold, they made their way back above ground.

It had been kind of overwhelming and Harry had stopped counting after the first hundred, more than ensuring that they would recoup their "losses" from the previous night. Even though he didn't think of it in those terms, specifically, but rather in the terms of paying back Luna.

Erandur had returned after a while and they had all decided to head back to Dawnstar, their new amnesiac companions included, as the priest had been worried about those they had left behind from yesterday. While Dawnstar was by no means a dangerous or treacherous town compared to some places the elf had mentioned—Riften, Solitude, Markarth, Windhelm...—it was still not out of the question for something to have happened during their day-long absence, and he was anxious to return.

"By Mara... This is more than I could have hoped for!" Erandur finally exclaimed as they showed him the gold.

"So you'll be fine with this?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes, of course." The priest nodded excitedly before shaking his head. "Though, I'm not blind to the woes of others. You two deserve much of this reward."

"No, that's not right." Harry immediately had to object. This was the money of those who had lived in the temple; they could just take it when they needed it so badly now.

But Erandur's kind smile foreclosed any further objections.

"No. Take half of it, at least. Without you, none of them would have had this chance. You two saved their lives and helped me return to a more just path. You two deserve, and I suspect, need this. Besides..." The elf looked grim again. "The money was not all justly gained. There is no need to concern yourselves with us to that extent, as I suspect this is a just penance for the things some of us had done. Please, take it."

Harry hesitated and glanced at Luna for support, but she only wore her usual serene expression and aside from the small satisfied smile that graced her lips as she looked at the clouds in the distance, he gleaned nothing of her feelings on the matter.

But looking at Luna he was suddenly reminded of something.

Eyes wide, he turned to Erandur. "Okay! Half, okay? I, uh, I need to go ahead! I'll see you back at the inn!"

The priest blinked and almost slipped on the snow as Harry tossed him five bulging pouches of gold—a rough half by his estimate—before he pulled out his wand. Closing his eyes, he visualized the town in the distance; the docks and the ships, with the men working tirelessly and the soft murmur of lapping waves.

And then he spun in place, apparating with a loud pop.

Appearing at the docks, he spun and almost slipped on the snow as the turned around, scanning for that one ship. Blinking, he hesitated as his brows furrowed in confusion.

The ship wasn't there. Looking left and right, he saw several other ships, some familiar and some new.

Harry swallowed, realizing that he was too late. The captain who had bought Luna's dress was already gone.

* * *

**Funny thing, in the last chapter, I only realized that I shouldn't have Erandur pitch in with the money for a place to stay for the amnesiacs, at the last minute when I was editing it in the ffnet docs. Because his character arc is from "coward who ran away" to "someone who is willing to confront his past and mistakes". So extending that weakness a little further and having Harry and Luna pay up changes the dynamic of the quest, since at the end Erandur decides to take responsibility for them. This way, they go from just "the hired muscle" to actual arbiters of positive change, helping Erandur become the person he wishes to be.**

**And as much as Harry and Luna improve Skyrim, so too does Skyrim push back and change Harry. Luna, not so much. Not yet anyhow.**

**Or well, so I figured. This was a short story arc so it might not come across as that impressive, but I thought it was decent enough. Felt like I should share it because of how many people were unhappy about Harry paying for their stay in the last chapter; don't worry, I hesitated over the choice as well.**

**Also, Veren is actually a dunmer too, not an altmer like I remembered. But can't be arsed to fix the mentions of his skin, since I used it to differentiate him during the action with it so much. Thanks Umaru the Unfeathered for pointing it out.**


	6. Mulling About

Unfamiliar faces, yet familiar horrors.

A flash of green. A burning pain in his hands followed by an unearthly howl. The throbbing headache that threatened to burst open his head and spew its contents to the four corners, leaving him behind as an empty shell whose sole purpose in remaining was to suffer. Sirius' surprised expression as he gasped and fell. Voldemort's haunting laughter. A dark, pulsating pit in the cold ground, deep beneath the light above.

A man's scared face soaked in blood as he took his last breath, lips whispering desperate final words.

"_I'm... sorry..._"

Harry woke with a start, eyes jumping left and right from one corner of the rustic room to another until he finally understood where he was. Kicking off the covers, he swung his feet down to the floor and immediately winced at the penetrating chill. Even so, he was soaked with sweat.

"I must have forgotten to cast the Patronus charm last night..." he mumbled. At least, he hoped that's what it was rather than his usual nightmares. Or perhaps unusual, as this was much too early in the year for them, he thought with a dark chuckle.

"I want a bath..." Harry muttered as he stood up, immediately wincing at the stiffness of his limbs and the soreness of his muscles. "A good, long soak."

It wasn't as if he _needed_ one as he had finally given in last night and scourgified himself. The sweat and dirt clinging onto him and his clothes had torn off as if by a stiff brush, leaving him feeling slightly raw of skin. And yet, it hadn't managed to wash off the stink of blood that Harry was certain still clung to him. His hands felt unclean, though he had plunged them several times into the snowdrifts outside.

Looking down in the dim light peeking through the rafters above, his hands didn't look any different from the day before, or the day before that. Thin fingers, attached to knobby joints, and covered in calloused skin. Pristine, yet somehow still unclean. Like there was an invisible film of grease—as if he had been scrubbing pots and pans all night again—stuck to his hands, that wouldn't come off.

Shaking his head and letting his arms fall down, he decided to get dressed and see to the others. The movement had the added benefit of warming him up and getting the blood flowing, helping him past the worst of his morning soreness and stiffness.

He might not have been able to buy back Luna's dress the day before, but he had managed to prepare enough food and places to sleep for the second batch of amnesiac sleepers. Well, only after moping around and asking uselessly if anyone by the docks knew where the ship had gone for an hour. It was the sight of one of the orcs from the day before yesterday, working as a dockhand and hauling heavy wares, that had allowed him to break out of his stupor.

Luckily, neither Luna nor Erandur had cottoned on to his initial mistake, though the latter had been very impressed yet again with Harry's magic.

Harry left his room at the inn and eyed the empty main hall.

No one else was awake quite yet, which given how dim it still was, wasn't altogether surprising. Giving voice to his earlier suspicions, Harry drew his wand and said: "_Expecto Patronum_."

Prongs pounced about the hall, sniffing the air curiously before turning halfway to look back at Harry with one eye. With a slow blink, the stag seemed to exhale and come undone, as if saying there was nothing for him to do here.

Frowning, Harry pocketed his wand and tried not to think about it too hard. Instead, he went in search of breakfast, knowing that there would be some bread and cheese behind the counter. Grabbing some, he left the coins on the counter and then looked around for water. But there was none, as pails hadn't been brought in yet for the day. Grimacing and sighing, Harry reached for one of the bottles of mead instead, exchanging it for what he thought was a fair sum of coins.

Sitting down by the firepit that dominated the middle of the hall, Harry opened the bottle after some experimentation and then took a tentative sip—and blinked with surprise at how sweet it was. The was a strange aftertaste that he thought surely was the alcohol, but the honey and spices covered it up so well that he didn't mind at all. It was different from the richness of butterbeer or the crispness of pumpkin juice, but he quite liked it.

Inhaling the bread and cheese with half of the bottle, Harry exhaled with satisfaction before deciding to set aside the rest of the bottle. He didn't know how potent the mead was, but he didn't want to get sloshed first thing in the morning.

"What now...?" he asked aloud, his immediate needs met and no habits to fall back on to occupy his mind.

The worst-case scenarios had been averted now; they had money and would not starve, and they could use magic publicly, meaning that they weren't in any immediate danger anymore. But they still needed to get back to Hogwarts, with no clear way back. And he still felt awful about Luna's dress. Could he justify going after it and trying to get it back? It wasn't as if he had any leads for getting them to Hogwarts, either...

Probably not.

Then what could they do?

Thinking back to the past few days a few things did pop into mind. Visiting Frodi with Luna again, selling the ingredients she had found, and maybe asking more about alchemy, helping Erandur with the people from Nightcaller temple... If it was just a matter of keeping busy, there certainly was no shortage of optional matters to handle.

Sighing and taking another deep swig from the mead bottle, Harry decided to leave it to Luna. Maybe she would have some ideas where he didn't.

* * *

Harry frowned.

It was noon soon and Luna had yet to rise. Most of the customers staying the night had long since vacated and Harry had polished off the bottle of mead he had grabbed earlier while thinking about nothing and trying not to fret.

But still, neither hide nor hair of Luna.

Shaking his head and standing up, he marched resolutely to her room's door and only once his hand came to hover over the doorknob did he hesitate. Swallowing slightly, he leaned back a little and instead knocked on the door twice.

"Luna, are you awake?"

No answer.

Turning his head and closing his eyes, he tried to hear if anything was amiss beyond the door. Hearing nothing he gathered his courage and opened the door. "Luna, are you in here?"

Looking within, he spotted the neatly folded pile of clothes beside the bed first. Then his eyes wandered back up to the bed over which his gaze had completely slipped. Peering intently, he could only just see the huddle formed beneath the blanket there, with a head of pale hair peeking just out. Curious, Harry called out again. "Luna?"

But she did not react. Anxious now, Harry strode in through the door—closing it behind him—and beside the bed, kneeling down so that he could move the blanket just enough to see her face.

Her face was pale—but not abnormally so, not for Luna anyhow, he thought—and relaxed. She was breathing lightly, the wisps of breath making a strand of hair hanging past her forehead dance in front of her face. A nervous knot unclenched in Harry's gut as he exhaled.

Reaching for her shoulder, he spoke quietly.

"Luna, wake up. It's noon already."

Where her name had failed the touch did not; slowly her eyes fluttered open and with half-lidded eyes she noticed him all-but hovering over her.

"Oh, hello Harry."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped back from the bed.

Sitting up, rather stiffly as Harry couldn't help but note, Luna yawned and stretched in bed. Her hair was a tangled mess and her eyes drooped still as if she still wasn't quite ready to rise for the day.

"When did you go asleep? It's almost noon already, Luna."

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes and tilted her head before another yawn claimed her. "Oh, I see. Mmm... tired."

Harry waited for her to say something more, but she appeared content to remain seated where she was, blinking at a spot on the wall. He frowned then, realizing that perhaps she was more exhausted than she had looked; the past few days had been rather hectic and tiresome after all.

Perhaps...

Perhaps everything could wait for one day?

"Would you like some breakfast? Or, well..." he paused, sheepish and considering the lateness of the morning, "Rater, _brunch_?" he corrected. It had been a common enough affair at the Dursleys, come weekend when neither Dudley nor his uncle absolutely had to get up before noon.

Luna blinked and turned to look at him, quizzical. "I've never had brunch before."

Harry blinked at that, then a half-devious thought came to him.

"How about brunch in bed, then?"

She shook her head again, eyes sparkling and awake at the mere thought.

"Well then, let me see what I can do about that," he said with a chuckle, turning around.

The Windpeak Inn didn't exactly have specific menus for different mealtimes, not like most places back home, so Harry had to make do with the usual foodstuffs available: bread, cheese, salted fish, eggs, and some jam that Thoring had made himself from snowberries and swore by. Coming up with what to make simply came down to simplicity; breakfast toast. Harry roasted the bread lightly and then melted the cheese on top of it, while with a borrowed skillet and some lard he fried the eggs over the firepit on some hot stones.

On half of the toasted bread with cheese he put the fried eggs and on the other, he spread plenty of jam. The fish could be eaten whole, he was told, so he put two on each egg, allowing their saltiness to mingle with the eggs, dripping with savouriness and blending together quite well.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry found Luna still sitting in bed where he had left her, but considerably more awake. Her tangled mess of a hair had somehow been straightened out and he suspected magic but didn't ask, as instead, he presented her with the brunch.

"It's not quite a Full English, but there's plenty. Dig in," he said with a grin.

If there was something he felt confident in cooking, it was breakfast. And for once it wasn't for the Dursleys. That, combined with the slight queerness necessary in cooking over a live fire which required some creative problem solving, was probably what had left him in such high spirits now. Who knew cooking could be such fun?

Luna's eyes widened at the sight, and she smiled as she obeyed. A minute later half the egg and fish toasts were already gone and the jam-lathered slices of bread were well in their wake in vanishing as well. Sensing a pause in her gorging, Harry offered the mug of warm watered-down mead for her to wash it all down with, which she accepted just as eagerly

It had become quite apparent that Luna had something of a sweet-tooth.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern returning.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and bulging cheek, momentarily all-too reminiscent of a squirrel for Harry to maintain his seriousness, forcing him to cough to hide a laugh. Luna chewed and swallowed meanwhile, before looking up at him again with a bright expression.

"Very pampered. Thank you, Harry."

He flushed at the unexpected answer, before shaking his head. "No, well, I meant..." Stammering for a second before taking another calming breath, he tried again. "How does your body feel? Are you tired? Hurt?"

"A little," she admitted and looked down to her toes, wriggling them beneath the warmth of the blanket.

He looked down, ashamed of himself for not having noticed how he had been pushing her after all. He had taken her help for granted and she was younger than him, too. If he was tired then, of course, she would be, too. He had even apparated back to Dawnstar yesterday while she had had to make the long trek back with Erandur and the others, compounding his error.

"Sorry..." he mumbled awkwardly.

When she didn't answer, he looked up and froze. She was smiling at him, but she had a moustache of the dark-red jam on her upper lip, having stolen a large bite out of the jam and melted cheese toast while he had been deep in thought.

Once again he had to hide his laughter, turning away from her. Once he had gotten himself back under control, he noted that the moustache was gone and Luna looked quite pleased with herself as she finished off the jam ones.

"Thank you for the brunch in bed. It was very delicious."

He nodded but then glanced at the remaining two untouched egg and fish sandwiches. He had made quite a bit and Luna looked fit for bursting already. Hearing his own stomach make a sound, Harry looked up to Luna and she nodded, understanding the sudden question. Mirroring her earlier gusto, he realized only after it was all gone that he had grown hungry again since breakfast.

Harry was certain he heard her giggle, but by the time he looked up, her face was carefully placid and clear of any obvious mirth. Mock-scowling he cleared his throat as he returned the plates to Thoring.

Luna was not far behind, getting clothed and making her bed in under a minute as she followed after him. Noting his empty hands, she peered expectantly at him presently, bringing to mind his earlier thoughts on what they should do right now.

But well, that had been before he had realized just how drawn Luna was.

"How about we just relax today? There shouldn't be anything pressing to worry about, right?" Harry asked, curious to see her reaction.

She adopted a thoughtful look for a moment before nodding. "Alright, Harry."

He grinned.

"Alright, is there anywhere you'd like to go? Or anything you'd like to do?"

"I should like very much to visit Frida. I'm sure she must be beside herself with worry by now."

Thinking back to the herbs Luna had gathered and mouth-watering at the thought of the alchemist's cooking, Harry nodded.

"Maybe we could talk to Erandur later and see how everything is progressing, as well."

She nodded at his suggestion brightly and a few minutes later they were off.

* * *

After hearing of their exploits and the saving of those who had been sleeping in Nightcaller temple, the old alchemist looked very troubled.

"What you have done might not be very good for Dawnstar..."

Harry's mind blanked out. He leaned forward, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Frida's downcast expression said little, her eyes far away. "So many people, sleeping for so long, so near to Dawnstar... Even before _my _time. Guess I'm not that old, after all." She laughed a little before meeting his eyes. "I slept better last night than I have in decades. It must have been always there, just beneath the surface, unbeknownst to all of us until now." The old woman seemed to shrink at the thought, shivering as if suddenly reminded of some great horror for a moment, before it all vanished and her eyes returned to them. "_Thank you_, Harry, _thank you_, Luna. I will have to thank that dark elf priest next we see at Windpeak Inn as well."

Brows still furrowed, Harry shook his head.

"Then what did you mean by it not being good...?"

Frida sighed deeply, shaking her head.

"There isn't enough work to go around. The iron mine and docks keep the town afloat, but only just. Who knows how long the food-stores will last now, with so many more mouths to feed and spring still so far off..."

Harry rocked back, sitting back against his chair as he thought about that.

"But, they have gold, so..."

Frida nodded. "And so gold the merchant ships will ask. But they do not need gold, while we do need food."

The captain who had bought Luna's dress came to mind, the memory of successfully haggling somewhat soured now by recent revelations. Times might be turning tough for all the people of Dawnstar now, not just Erandur and those awakened at Nightcaller temple.

"And that fort... Jarl Skald will want it now, too. Before someone else takes it."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Before it was only a ruined fort. A single room with an altar to Mara is no great threat... But an underground fort large enough to host so many..." Frida shook her head, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. "If any bandits manage to hear of it and decide to make it theirs."

"Bandits?" The thought hadn't even occurred to Harry, the concept worlds away from his own frame of reference even though the word itself was not entirely alien. "Are there a lot of bandits around here?"

Frida nodded sadly.

"The roads are always dangerous in Skyrim. It is why merchants brave the sea of ghosts despite its treacherous waters. There are more old forts and caves than I could count, with just as many desperate men seeking shelter."

Harry nodded, already thinking about how he could seal the temple before anyone could find it.

"Erandur will know what to do," Luna interjected then.

"If that is so, then Skald will want to speak with him."

Nodding, Harry decided to talk to Erandur when they next saw each other about these problems. If he could help and avoid a catastrophe, then he would obviously have to help any way that he could.

After that, Luna sold the herbs she had collected and he bought some potions—a pair of healing and stamina recovering phials, one each for him and Luna to carry—and Luna discussed the various plants that she had gathered, learning their names and properties quickly enough. Perhaps herbology was also an interest of hers in the same way her strange creatures were? Once accounts were balanced, they only made a handful of septims, proving how profitable alchemy was.

Something Harry made a note of to consider if ever there came another pressing need for coin, a possibility he thought all too likely,

* * *

"Indeed, the jarl has not been very pleased with the addition of my new flock to Dawnstar and I fear the future does not hold any easy answers or paths before us," Erandur intoned gravely, but then he offered a small, hopeful, smile. "But with Mara's guidance, I am certain we shall prevail."

Harry nodded. "Is there anything w—_I_ can do to help?"

"You have done much already, young Harry," Erandur reassured him. "And it is our place to learn to stand once more. You cannot stay here forever, after all. But..." He raised a hand to his jaw. "There is the matter of the Jarl's fears. There is not all too much that can be done about some of his worries, but one matter would be solved easily enough. The many weapons we left behind in the temple, both those of the orcish warband and those of the acolytes..."

Harry nodded.

"It need not be all of them, as with the miasma still in place few others could find them. But handing over a dozen blades to the guard would go a long way in proving our good intentions

With apparition and the summoning charm, it would be quick work to pick clean the temple. Finding a dozen or so weapons to bring back would just take a few minutes.

"I'll get it done by today." Turning to look at Luna, he said: "I think it will be easier to apparate alone if I have to carry all those axes and swords back."

She nodded serenely, before turning to Erandur. "Has Bobrikoff bought a ship?"

The elf blinked at the apparent non-sequitur before coughing a laugh. "Indeed, many of the orcs we brought back the day before yesterday have grown antsy already. Perhaps their simple culture and habits made recovering from amnesia a simpler matter than for the others, but they are already finding work on their own. Some have taken to hunting, others to fishing or dock work. Bobrikoff and a few others managed to dive and haul up a recently sunken fishing boat and are now claiming it as salvage."

Harry had to blink at that, not having noticed at all besides having seen some of the distinctive, green-skinned amnesiacs working at the docks, unloading and loading ships. But it was promising that some of them were already getting back onto their feet.

"That's good to hear, I guess. See you back at the inn, Luna?" Harry asked, drawing his wand out.

"Alright, Harry. Have a safe trip and watch out for the saber cats."

He laughed, suddenly realizing how that would have sounded to any of their friends back in Hogwarts. For once though, he could agree to her sentiment without thinking too hard about it. "I will. See you soon."

With a twirl and pop, he vanished.

Appearing just outside the ruined fort.

Looking around, Harry let out a sigh of relief; no big cats lying in wait to jump him.

Even with the temple emptied and the staff gone, there was still a foreboding aura that hit him as he opened the ancient wooden door and entered, a chill wind that tickled his nose with the musty scent and stale odour of the deep halls within. He hesitated at the door before shaking his head and pressing onward.

Bubble-head charm, light charm, summoning charm.

Gathering a sizeable pile of old weapons was accomplished—as expected—in just a matter of minutes. But still, Harry did not leave. Peering through the grate down into the now pitch black pit, he felt an indescribable pull. Settling his shoulders, he pressed on down.

Somehow the whole place had transformed with the absence of Luna and Erandur, every dark corner jumping out at him and every whisper of the wind turning into something much more by the power of his jumpy imagination. Halfway down he gave up and threw the invisibility cloak over his shoulders, entrusting himself into its embrace.

And then he was down there again, at the very bottom, staring at the stiff body that had been left behind. And there, against the wall lay the charred remains of the man Erandur had slain. He was suddenly reminded of the nightmare he had had, but couldn't place why it bothered him so. He had seen death before and had caused the deaths of others before.

The dread and worry of seeing Luna get hit. The thrill and satisfaction of seeing his opponent slump.

He was overcome with a sense of being out of place. Not just because of being in a strange land far beyond any he had ever heard of but also because of his actions. And a niggling sense of remorse, yet one entirely improper.

The blood had already dried and hardened, turning black on black in the darkness, with only the slightest hint of roasted flesh remaining in the air. Inhaling slowly, first through his nose and then gagging a little, and then through his mouth, Harry decided that he should bring these two up and bury them somewhere. If he knew one, he might have even said a prayer for them, now. He didn't know what was proper in Skyrim for the dead or what either of these two would have wished, but Harry realized that it wasn't about that. It was about _him_.

"_Defodio_."

The spell gouged through the snow and earth, creating a rectangular hole fit for one person deep enough that should he have stepped in, his head would have vanished from sight before his feet hit the bottom. Levitating one of the bodies in and then covering up the hole, he repeated it for the other cultist.

Again, that sense of being out of place assailed him and again he did not know what to do about it. Any sense of relief he might have expected to come out of burying the dead wasn't to come, leaving him standing alone beside the ruined old fort with his conflicted thoughts.

Finally, after a long while of indecision, he shook off his melancholy and decided to return to Dawnstar with the weapons he had gathered.

* * *

Carrying a literal armful of swords and axes hadn't been easy or pleasant, even as he had bundled them together with some transfigured twine, so handing them over to Erandur was a definite relief.

Harry half-wondered at their weight; the Sword of Gryffindor had been much more manageable, and he had been much younger back then!

Leaving behind the priest, he headed back to the inn in search of Luna and lunch. Or rather, given the lateness of their morning, perhaps an early dinner? "What would that even make it, _linner_?" he scoffed at the thought as he briskly walked back. The day was half over, but most of the townsfolk were still busy at work. The mines were churning and smoking, the docks were bustling and bellowing.

Luna he found easily enough, though Thoring told him that she had already turned in for the day, having appeared quite tired by the time she had returned to the inn. Worried once more, he knocked at her room's door.

"Harry?" Luna softly called out in return and he answered, entering the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mm... Tired."

He frowned. She had slept the whole night and still felt too tired to keep awake? Marching into the room, he walked right up to her and peered down into the bed.

"Luna, does it hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head, before pausing. Then, tilting it to the side a little, she raised and lowered her right arm. Correcting her earlier assessment as she gestured at the arm with her other, she said: "A little."

If he wasn't remembering entirely wrong, wasn't that where that lightning spell had hit her? Like a lightning rod, the shock had struck at her most extended body part.

"Sorry, but could you show it to me?"

Luna began to roll up the right sleeve and immediately he could see a root-like fractal pattern of red on her skin, almost like a lightning bolt carved within her skin. Not like his crude and deep mark, but a delicate and intricate pattern, barely visible against her pale skin.

He had no idea what it meant, but coupled with Luna's recent exhaustion, he doubted it was anything good.

"Luna, have you tried using the potion we bought?"

"Do you think it will help?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But it can't hurt. _Maybe_." He frowned. "Or maybe we hold off on that for a little while and ask Frida first. Maybe she will know."

She moved to get out of bed but he put a stop to that quickly.

"Just lie down. I'll be right back."

Walking briskly out of the inn, he jogged the whole way to the Mortar and Pestle, finding it still open for business and mostly empty, excepting Frida sitting by the fire and reading some book or another.

"Oh my, welcome back. Was there something else that you wished to buy?" Frida greeted him as he entered.

"Your potion, can Luna drink it? I mean—no, rather, is it okay if, she has this lightning-shaped, not-quite-a-scar," Harry said and realized presently that he was rambling now. Closing his mouth and inhaling slowly, seeing the elderly alchemist's bemused expression, he tried again. "Luna was hit by some kind of lightning spell last night and now she's very tired. She slept the whole night and she's still tired. And on her arm, where she was hit, there is a red mark, like a thin welt, shaped like a root or a lightning bolt."

"Oh my, is she alright?" Frida asked worriedly.

"I don't know. Can, could drinking one of the potions help her?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Those potions are best used against bleeding wounds and broken bones, I'm afraid. I have something for burns and for frostbite, but shocks are very rare. I did not even know there was such magic..." Her wrinkled face scrunched in thought. "Have you asked Erandur yet? I think the wily old priest would be the most knowledgeable in all of Dawnstar, when it comes to magic, besides, he is the most talented healer in the hold."

"Erandur? Oh, right. Of course. I'll go look. Thank you anyhow."

With that, he left the Mortar and Pestle with all due haste. Scanning the town for any sight of the usual gathering of amnesiacs as he ran about, he found them quickly enough.

"Hello there, friend. What is the matter?" the elf immediately asked upon seeing Harry's state.

"It's Luna..." Harry said and explained again, as he had to Frida.

"Ah, yes. I should have thought of it myself. I wield the destructive magics of flame myself, but I am familiar with how pernicious and dangerous shock may be. You say that she is exhausted and there is a mark where she was struck?"

"That's right," he said and nodded.

"Is her skin burnt or has she weakness of that specific limb? Any involuntary or unexpected twitching?" the priest inquired seriously.

Harry hesitated. "No, I don't think so. Well, I didn't think to ask, but she hasn't complained about it."

Erandur nodded twice, raising a hand to rub his dark chin as his crimson eyes flew far off with his thoughts. Then he shook his head and returned his gaze to Harry. "There is no use discussing it, I will see to her myself."

After requesting his amnesiac flock to stay out of trouble, they both returned to the inn.

Luna was back in her room, having closed her eyes once more and for all her stillness Harry had the most unpleasant expectation that she might have perished while he was away. But as they both entered the small one-guest-bedroom, her silvery eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, hello Harry. Hello Erandur," she greeted them as she sat up.

"Hey, Luna," Harry said in turn. "I asked Frida and she said it probably wouldn't help, but Erandur is a healer, so maybe he can tell what's happened..."

"Oh, alright." She nodded and smiled at the elf.

"I will ask you some questions, my child. Answer them as honestly as you can... How do you feel...?"

It was a half-hour of questions and moving about in various positions while occasionally the priest would prod and poke at Luna's arm. Finally, he incanted something under his breath and a golden glow encapsulated his hands as he held them over the spot where the pink branching, lightning-like mark was on her arm.

Harry's breath was caught in his throat at the sense of sheer magic, so different from what he had gotten used to in his many years as a visitor of the Hogwart's hospital wing.

"Whew..." Erandur exhaled and ceased, pulling back as the magical glow vanished. "I don't know if this will be enough, as I simply have not had the chance to face magical shock very often. But it should help."

"Thank you," Harry breathed out, nodding again. "Really."

"It's tingling," Luna observed before she too nodded. "Thank you."

"It was nothing, my child. You two have helped me so much more already." The priest smiled as he stood up. "If you wish to know more or consult a better healer... There are a few options in Skyrim. I know of three persons more talented than I, though I have only passing familiarity with any of them. Two of them could probably help."

"Oh?" Harry blinked.

"Yes... To the south of Dawnstar lies Whiterun at the center of Skyrim and there, to Temple of Kynareth tends Danica Pure-Spring. She is a Master of Restoration, famed for her skill in the healing arts." Erandur said. "Alternatively, to the east along the coast, you will find Winterhold where the College of Winterhold lies. I know that they teach all five of the major schools of magic there, of which Restoration is taught by Colette Marence. She is not as skilled as Danica Pure-Spring, but she is my superior yet. I am certain that either of them would know more..."

Harry nodded slowly. "Winterhold to the east and Whiterun to the south... Alright. Thank you, Erandur."

"I apologize that I could not be of more help, but I must go now. Before they get into any trouble."

"Say hello to the orcs for me," Luna said, managing to lighten the mood and elicit a smile from the priest.

"I will. Recover now, girl."

Harry watched the priest go, already deep in thought. Whiterun—with its legendary healer, another priest of the local gods and someone Erandur had obvious and immense respect for—seemed like the obvious choice to him, now. The only problem was that travelling there would be dangerous, as Frida had all but declared the roads to be full of bandits, and Luna's condition could easily worsen if they travelled strenuously.

"What do you think, Luna?"

"The College of Winterhold," she said immediately, without hesitation.

"Huh?"

"It is by far the superior option," she declared with conviction. "The College teaches all the major magics, therefore it should be more familiar with lightning, no?" He couldn't argue with the logic, now that it was pointed out to him. "And they can help us get back to Hogwarts as well, moreso than a priestess can, I'm sure." That, too, was something he couldn't refute. "It should also be very exciting to see another school of magic."

Harry laughed at that, realizing his haste was outmatched by her calm analysis.

"Besides which. We can get there by boat, which should be the easier and safer way to travel," he said, before nodding. "I don't think you should have to walk all the way to Whiterun, after all."

Luna looked at him oddly then, tilting her head sideways. "Silly Harry. You would simply make the trip on your own and then apparate me there, should we wish to visit Whiterun without my walking."

He blinked, jaw hanging.

It seemed so very obvious when she pointed it out.

"Huh... I guess it was really true."

"What was?" she asked, curious.

"That wit beyond measure..."

She smiled, pleased. completing the quote with: "Is man's greatest treasure."

He laughed, relaxing finally for the first time in days. Thus, he uttered the dark thought that had just come to his mind without censure.

"I'm _glad_ I killed him."

And as soon as he said it, he regretted it, as if the words had had a life of their own. Like they sought out to be spoken in response to his turbid thoughts. That word—_kill_—tasting somehow bitter and acrid and unpleasant on his tongue. It was just a one-off thought, something he normally would have only considered for a moment and then dismissed. But abnormal circumstances beget abnormal thoughts.

Luna blinked, before she shook her head sadly.

"That's not true."

He felt his heckles rise and puffed up. Now that she had contradicted him, it somehow felt as if he had to defend himself and already his old temper was beginning to rear itself up in preparation for a row. "It _is_; he _hurt _you. And I'm _glad_ I stopped him."

That was true enough, even if he was now arguing beside the point. It was easier when he thought about it like that and didn't use that word.

"No." And she had noticed it, he realized. "I should think Harry Potter feels very bad about killing someone," Luna refuted him, still all-too serene. A hot protest—really a continuation of his earlier thoughts, rather than a response—was on his tongue, when she knocked the breath out of him with his next words. "Because you didn't mean to kill him."

His breath hitched as she named his improper remorse.

Not that of having killed a man, but of having killed a man by accident. By not having known what the spell he had cast would do. Of regretting having taken a life by chance rather than choice. And wasn't that the worst thing? To not even feel guilty about having taken a life, but rather of the way it had been taken?

Hot shame washed away his previous rationalization and anger; that he had supposed himself glad to have killed someone, because they had hurt a friend of his. He almost wished that Hermione had been there, telling him off for using that spell, for having used the book at all even when she had warned him so much about it. But at the same time, he dreaded what she would think of him now, too.

Conflicted and sullen, they remained like so for a long while. Harry unable to speak, Luna willing to wait, perhaps looking for the right words.

Somehow the room was beginning to feel crowded. Stifling. Like it was pressing in on him from all sides. The words to excuse himself were on his lips when he was startled. Looking down, he saw what he felt; Luna's hand gently resting on his and giving it a soft squeeze.

Finally, he couldn't help himself...

"I brought them up to the surface and buried them... When I went to get the swords. But I couldn't... I couldn't think of anything to say or do more, so I just left them there."

Luna nodded, but said nothing more, only squeezing his hand once more.

Neither said anything, but somehow perhaps that was enough.

* * *

**A bit of a non-progression of a chapter, but I wanted to expand on the effects of the last chapter's events a little, both ways. Also recently read a bunch of book (some again, with more context from the other books I've since read) on violence and killing and how different people react to that.**

**And _somehow_ this is still an easier and less stressful write than MotM. I really should get back to that chapter and just get it done already :S**


	7. College Collage

Travel by boat wasn't all that exciting despite everything he had heard about the sea of ghosts.

He had half-expected dragons, pirates, a kraken… _Something. _But no. Compared to his other time at sea, it wasn't particularly noteworthy. Not even a half-giant with a letter and cake.

Really it was just cold, and windy, and cold, and wet. So _really_, it was just very cold. The kind of bone-penetrating chill that layers of clothing and warming charms seemed powerless before, as the spray of cold water from the ship breaking waves soaked everything he could put on, and the howling chill wind rendered any charm moot within minutes.

Harry had begun to wonder if they really shouldn't have tried taking the roads to Whiterun instead. Or, at least travel by land to Winterhold. He had been told that it was the neighbouring province to the Pale—where Dawnstar was—and had figured that it meant it couldn't be _that_ far away. Only to realize that what it really meant was, that to get to Winterhold they would have to walk around all of the mountains they could see to the east of Dawnstar. The entire bloody mountain-range that stretched as far and high as the eye could see—from sea to sky, rising from the water all the way up until it was scratching the clouds on high.

Still, even though it had been a miserable pair of days, they had been reassured by the captain that they were making good time with the winds on their backs. And better yet, Luna had seemed to recover from her fatigue, leaving only the strange pattern on her arm for them to worry about.

"Harry!" Luna cried out and he turned around, frowning at her. She was pointing out into the distance and jumping on the deck. "Look!"

He followed the line of her outstretched hand, point upwards, and head along the coast. His brows furrowed further as he saw nothing but icebergs and more icebergs until suddenly there it was. A grey stone keep perched atop a long outcropping of ice, rising up so far above that somehow he felt like the structure was about to collapse into the sea at any moment.

"Is that it…?"

Hogwarts was old, too. But that castle in the distance was simply _decrepit_.

It didn't look particularly different from the ruins in which Nightcaller temple had been hidden, he thought with a frown. Just then, the captain of the trading ship headed for Windhelm—another, larger city further to the east along the northern coast of Skyrim—barked orders at his men. Slowly the longboat began to inch towards the coast, just beneath the massive glaciers and as the sail was taken down and oars brought forward, Harry had to ask.

"Umm, where are you leaving us, exactly?"

There was no port, no city, no town. Just ice and snow as far as the eye could see, besides the castle now looming high above them on top of a glacier. If he strained his eyes, he could just see something like a bridge hanging in the air, too.

The gruff captain grunted.

"There's a path up to Winterhold right over there. Mind the horkers, they won't bother you unless you bother them. and pray there aren't wolves or saber cats on the way up."

"Oh…" Harry nodded, nervously touching his wand then.

A scant few minutes later the shallow longboat made contact with the beach and Harry and Luna jumped off. There were no long goodbyes or further advice forthcoming from the captain or his crew as they hastened to get the boat back in the water.

For how much they had had to pay for the ride, the service certainly hadn't been up to par.

"See if we ride with you again," Harry grumbled and shook his head.

Then, turning around he spotted Luna ogling at the three-toothed walruses lounging about by the waterfront. They were brown, blubbery, and obviously quite lazy, unwilling to bother the either of them with so much as a look yet while they remained at a distance.

"Those are the horkers then, I suppose."

"Let's go closer, Harry...!" Luna was already on her way and he had to jog up to catch her arm.

"Luna, wait!" Faced with her excited expression, he faltered. "You, uh… You should be careful."

She nodded, her excitement now more controlled by not at all dampened. "Oh, yes. We can't all be Hagrid."

He blinked, reminded of her opinion on his first friend's teaching of the class, earlier this year. Shaking his head he looked up at the castle. He supposed they weren't in any hurry as there was plenty of daylight left. And if worst came to worst then he could apparate them, either back to Dawnstar or then up there.

She was still looking at him intently, so Harry let go of her arm with an embarrassed cough. "Well, just so you know. Do you… want my cloak? I'm sure they wouldn't mind you, then?"

Luna looked surprised, before she laughed and shook her head.

"It would be terribly rude to spy on them like that, Harry."

"Oh, err, I guess?"

Following her at a distance, they set down their packs and spent some half-hour just looking at the horkers. Luna seemed positively giddy about the creatures, making observations and guessing at various minutiae of their diets, preferred habitats, sleeping rhythm and positions, all while Harry sat back, begging of on account of the creatures reminding him all too much of his cousin and uncle.

Eventually, she seemed to have gathered enough and they re-took their packs and started the trek up to Winterhold, snaking their way between massive glaciers, or rather where they had cracked and split to create gorges and canyons of wondrous white snow and pale blue ice.

A deep thrum startled them both out of their quiet ascent.

"What was that?" Harry asked, his wand already out as he looked left and right.

"Could it be a…"

But Luna's words were swallowed by the follow up to the earlier noise, an echoing deep rumble that shook the ground and made powdery snow fall in puffs and piles from above.

"The ice is moving and breaking apart…" Harry realized.

Suddenly the deep, frozen canyon did not seem as miraculous, the thought of the tonnes and tonnes of snow pressing in and collapsing on top of them making him swallow nervously.

"We should go," he said, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour just then.

Luckily they did not run into anything else on the way up, but he could have sworn he had heard howling echoing in the distance at one point.

Arriving at the edge of town, they looked around curiously.

Where Dawnstar had been small and poor, Winterhold was that and less. Half the houses had collapsed and been abandoned, now covered in snow or used as storage or source for firewood by the neighbouring, still-occupied houses. No dock, no smithy, no mines. There was an inn up ahead, but it too looked nothing as inviting as the Windpeak Inn had been.

Frowning, Harry turned to look at the stone archway leading towards the castle they had seen before they had made landfall. As he had thought, it really did stand on its own on a pillar of ice, connected only by a stone bridgeway to the town. That had to be the College, then. Unless Erandur had meant for them to study in one of the worn and snow-covered cabins.

"S'not much compared to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, huh…?" This was closer to what Harry had imagined Durmstrang to be, instead. "Well, let's go…"

At the stone arch leading to the castle, there stood a tall woman in robes. They weren't the baggy or billowy sort that he was used to seeing, rather it looked like a long tunic. As they made their way closer, Harry could see that it wasn't a human but in fact another elf, one with golden-yellow skin. Nervously swallowing his unease he led them to a halt before her.

"Umm… Hello, is this the College of Winterhold?"

A pale brow arched and he couldn't quite tell if she was amused or judging him as she stared down at them. Like Erandur, she had angled eyes that made her distinctly inhuman and very high cheekbones with almost hollow cheeks. But the lack of burning red eyes, replaced by deep-set and dark mien, made her quite distinctive regardless.

Finally, she spoke.

"Indeed. Welcome to the College. Do you wish to join or do you have some other business here?"

"Yes," Luna answered promptly, drawing the tall elf's gaze and the two blondes stared at each other.

Clearing his throat, Harry explained: "We heard that there was famous healer, Colette Marence, here?."

There was also the matter of finding a way back home, but that would be quite a bit more difficult to explain, and perhaps the easiest way about figuring that out would be to join the College as Luna was suggesting.

The elf sighed.

"I'm afraid that Colette is… not very keen on accepting visitors or patients."

"Oh…"

"But, she does make time for members of the College on occasion, especially during lectures for demonstration purposes. Would that suit your needs, if I have understood correctly?"

Harry nodded, relieved. "Yes, we would like to join."

"Of course. There is still the matter of the entrance exam, as not everyone is allowed to enter."

"Okay," he replied, glancing at Luna. He had managed his O.W.L.s, but she hadn't yet, and he had no idea what kind of exam they needed to pass here. Most of what he had learned in Hogwarts over the half-decade that he had been attending would be useless here, after all.

"A simple demonstration of the ability to cast spells will suffice. Any of the five schools will do, as we perform research and teach for all of them."

Nodding, Harry drew his wand and then after a moment of indecision incanted: "_Lumos._"

The tip of the wand lit up with a bright light.

Beside him Luna imitated him, her wand lighting up just the same.

Perhaps because of how simple a spell they had chosen, the elf frowned and looked between the two wands with furrowed brows. Hesitating for a spell, she frowned.

"I'm afraid that we do not accept students if they are reliant on enchanted items or scrolls." She crossed her arms, now looking at them down over the length of her nose. "If there are no other spells that you can cast, then I'm afraid there is no further need for you to linger by the gates."

Harry blinked, not quite understanding what was happening. Still, her dismissal and looking down on him was fueling some sense of pride within himself, especially given how oft Erandur had praised his abilities.

"Well, if it's just another spell, that's no issue," he said crossly and conjured a gout of flame with a whispered _Incendio_, following the display with a bird-conjuring charm and then finishing off with a silent _Stupefy_ that managed to hit four birds at once.

The elf's expression had gone blank as a canvas.

Luna imitated his spells once more, though she had to incant _Incendio_ and _Stupefy _quite a bit more loudly than he had, finishing her dancing wand motions by placing it behind her left ear.

The tall woman blinked and then ruefully chuckled.

"I cannot say that I had expected such a display from one so young, but it changes little; the College of Winterhold would be most proud to welcome two mages so accomplished." Having said that, she actually performed a little bow. "But, if I may be so bold, may I pose a question? What is it that you hope to find within the College?"

Harry hesitated, glancing at Luna. Taking this as a cue to go ahead first, his companion answered.

"Do you have any books on horkers?"

He chortled at the elf's expression, looking away.

"Ah, well… Perhaps Urag gro-Shub may help you there—he is the caretaker of the Arcaneum, and knows many things. Knowledge is always a worthwhile pursuit." The elf nodded and then turned to Harry. "And you?"

"Ah, uh… _Well…"_

Luna had convinced him to come here, but it would be wrong to say that he hadn't thought about this place at all himself. But he wasn't exactly sure how to say what was on his mind.

"I… want to know more about… _fighting _with magic."

He winced. That came out wrong, as if he wanted to learn the dark arts or something.

But for whatever reason, this answer seemed to please the tall elf as she nodded.

"Many come seeking mastery over the elements—frost, fire, and shock—and the powers they bring to bear. This, too, the College can help you with; I warmly welcome any new students who would walk this path with me. Ah, _but…_ I have yet to introduce myself. I am Faralda, the College's expert on destruction magic."

"Oh—I'm Harry… Harry Potter," he hastened to reply. "And this is…"

"Luna Lovegood."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintances." Faralda nodded, pleased as she motioned for them to follow. "Now, let us find the _Master Wizard_. Come."

They followed the tall elf through the gatehouse and up to the stone bridge they had seen before. Up close it was much more obvious how worn and old it was, as pieces from the side had eroded and fallen off, making it quite obvious how high up they were as they walked towards the castle-on-a-glacier-spire. The howling wind, bringing up puffs of powdery snow, helped none. Along the way they passed several strange stone circles—almost like low and wide stone wells, but not quite—but Faralda moved past them without comment.

At the ended of the high-strung bridge lay another gatehouse, this one leading into a courtyard.

It hadn't been apparent from afar, but the College appeared to be one structure. A single, circular keep with an empty centre—the large courtyard, with another of those not-quite-wells and a large statue in the middle. Ahead on the other side of the statue, he spotted a large wooden door and as they approached the statue, he spotted another two smaller doors on the left and right sides.

Faralda came to a halt and then nodded them on ahead, motioning at a short-haired woman up ahead.

"That is _Mirabelle Ervine_, the _Master Wizard_ of the College." There was something in the elf's tone of voice that Harry couldn't quite place, but as she continued he ignored it. "Speak to her, I must return to the gate."

With that, she left them.

Sharing a look, Harry and Luna shrugged before heading towards the woman.

It seemed as if there had been some argument as yet another tall elf—one wearing a more ornate black and gold robe with a hood—strode away with the air of proud indignation, instantly reminding Harry of Lucius Malfoy. There was a certain _air_ about him.

"Hmm? Oh, more students? I'm surprised how many of you there are lately."

Harry nodded. "Are you the Master Wizard?" he asked, quite puzzled over her apparent gender. "Faralda instructed us to speak with you."

"Indeed. Welcome to the College of Winterhold; I am Mirabelle Ervine and I serve as the Master Wizard."

He and Luna nodded.

"Good. Will the both of you be staying at the College, then?"

"Umm, I guess?" Harry replied.

"Wonderful. Please follow me, and don't wander off," Mirabelle said and then turned around. "The College of Winterhold has been a fixture in Skyrim for thousands of years. The prominent feature here is the Hall of the Elements." She gestured at the large door that Harry had spotted earlier. "It's our primary location for lectures, practice sessions, and general meetings. The Arcanaeum is located above the hall, and the Arch-Mage's quarters above that."

"The Arch-Mage?" Luna asked, curious.

She smiled slightly, almost abashed.

"Indeed. While technically in charge of the College, the Arch-Mage's responsibilities often keep him occupied. Thus, my duties include handling the day-to-day operations of the College and you may speak with me if you have any questions of such a nature. Now, if you'll please follow me, I'll show you the living quarters."

They crossed the courtyard and entered through one of the smaller doors.

Inside, speaking much more quietly than before, partly due to the lack of howling wind, she continued.

"Unfortunately, we've had to implement more stringent entry procedures, due to some problems with the local Nords. We don't anticipate any real violence, but it never hurts to be prepared." Walking deeper inside, Harry noted that it was very dark, with the only source of light being another of those not-quite-wells again. Coming to a stop, the Master Wizard gestured to the various doors. "Our newest members are housed here in the Hall of Attainment. I'll ask that you please keep your voice down while inside, as others may be working on research or... delicate experiments."

Harry nodded.

"Now, will you two be sharing accommodations, or…?" Mirabelle trailed off with an expectant look.

Licking his lips, Harry glanced at Luna. Could they afford two rooms?

"Umm, how much are the rooms? And what about tuition fees?" he asked tentatively.

Mirabelle nodded, smiling slightly.

"The rooms—and robes I shall shortly present you with—are free, as are the food and other services we provide. We do not expect any tuition, nor are there any expectations of you." As Harry blinked, confused, she gestured to the walls around them proudly. "This College is a place to study and practice magic freely. Hopefully, any discoveries made in your pursuits will be shared with the members of the College first." She smiled. "That way we _all _benefit."

"Oh… That's…" Better than he could have hoped for.

If they had landed near Winterhold right away he wouldn't have needed to sell Luna's dress in the first place. But things hadn't been so simple; it had taken considerable money to get here in the first place. Money, money, money. Everything was about money, Harry had slowly realized during his stay in Dawnstar. So how did they keep everything running here?

He asked as much.

Mirabelle nodded and for a moment he almost expected for her to grant him house points.

"The facilities and lectures are provided for free in most cases, but should you wish to learn new spells from the College, you will most likely have to purchase the spell tomes. Sometimes the professors may agree to an exchange of favors, but for most spells, you will find yourself in need of gold," she explained.

That seemed reasonable enough, he supposed.

"Additionally, our services are often called upon in Skyrim. Should you wish to assist in these matters, you will be rewarded a portion of the customer's fee. This way you may practice your skills, acquire resources to continue your studies, and help the College."

Harry nodded, considering the novel approach. Hadn't Hagrid said that should the muggles be made aware of magic, they would flood witches and wizards with all manner of problems? But it did make some sense; even an ickle firstie from Hogwarts could easily perform magic that would be invaluable to a muggle.

So in Skyrim, without the International Statute of Secrecy, he supposed it was a legitimate way of remaining solvent.

"Okay, makes sense. I guess."

"What kind of magic do you study?" Luna asked.

Mirabelle nodded at the question.

"You will meet them all sooner or later, but there is no harm in telling now either; besides myself and the Arch-Wizard, the College's staff also includes the various professors and the keeper of the Arcaneum. Faralda, our resident expert on Destruction magic, you have already met on your way in. She may have a sharp tongue but her skills and knowledge with the elements are unmatched at the College."

The elf had mentioned as much before, Harry remembered.

No wonder she had approved of his interest in fighting, he supposed. Still, the name 'destruction' did not leave much to the imagination. He preferred Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he would wait and see what the lessons themselves entailed before passing further judgment.

"For Restoration magic, we have Colette Marence. She may have certain…" Mirabelle grimaced, searching for the words. "..._insecurities_, regarding Restoration magic, but aside from that, she is quite reliable. On the opposite side, in many ways, we have Drevis Neloren teaching Illusion magic." She smiled now, perhaps remembering some amusing anecdote, but said nothing more on the subject. "For Conjuration, our most recent addition to the staff, is Phinis Gestor."

Harry perked at that.

They had been set to learn conjuration in post-O.W.L.s classes in Transfiguration back in Hogwarts. Of course, it was likely that it would be a different branch of magic altogether, but he made a note to check it out nonetheless.

"And finally, our most talented member of staff; Tolfdir, teaching Alteration magic. We do not expect our students to follow any specific curriculum, but usually, all attend Tolfdir's lessons, for a multitude of reasons. Besides them, we also have Sergius Turrianus who teaches Enchanting—our perhaps most profitable branch in Skyrim," she said with an amused expression, which Harry didn't quite understand. "And Urag Gro-shub as keeper of the Arcaneum. Should you wish to consult the College's collection of books I suggest you remain on good terms with the old orc."

He blinked—finally realizing that the library, which had now been mentioned several times, was called the_ Arcaneum_—and also having a difficult time connecting the image of an orc with the duties of a librarian. The Master Wizard, aware of Harry's reaction, only smiled knowingly.

"I should like to meet him very soon," Luna opined, apparently just as curious as he was.

"Of course," Mirabelle answered. "Now, before I forget…" She walked over to a large, dark cabinet and opened it, pulling forth a set of deep blue robes similar to the ones she and Faralda wore. Handing them over, she said: "Here you go. You may prefer these to your current clothing, though the College does not necessarily enforce a dress code. They are enchanted and should help you get situated."

Harry nodded, accepting his robes and deciding that he might as well put them on, noticing that Luna seemed to share his curiosity. They came with a pair of soft leather shoes and long linen wraps, which was just as well. They had had to re-transfigure their boots once during the boat journey already, so getting some real shoes had been on his mind since leaving Dawnstar.

"With that settled and everything explained, shall I assume that wish separate quarters?" Seeing his nod, the Master Wizard motioned at two doors right next to each other. "Very well. These are your rooms."

They looked inside, noting how spartan it was. There was a bed, a table and a chair, dressers and cupboards, leaving the small-ish room feeling quite stuffed. Regardless, they were still private rooms; a luxury after years of shared dorms in Hogwarts.

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling a little overwhelmed again.

"Now, finally, there is the matter of rules." Mirabelle became serious once she had handed both sets of robes to them. "You may not steal, attack, or otherwise harm other members of the College. While in public, remember that you are representatives and behave as such; while we do not strictly speaking condemn necromancy—" Harry's eyes widened. "—we are aware of the general population's views on the matter. So bear that in mind, should you wish to experiment. Aside from that, you may do as you wish."

"O-okay." Harry gulped.

He hadn't quite realized the implications of how a more liberal view on practising magic might affect a school, but hearing about necromancy came as something of a shock. Then again if they taught something called 'destruction magic', perhaps he shouldn't be so shocked?

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be leaving. Feel free to look around and introduce yourself to everyone… Welcome to the College and have a good day."

With that, the short-haired woman left, exiting the Hall of Attainment the way she had come.

Glancing at Luna and hefting his pack, he nodded at the open doors to their rooms. "Which one do you want?"

She raised a finger to her mouth, tilting her head for a moment before closing her eyes and spinning around with her hand extended. One, two, three full rotations she went, only stopping as she began to lose her balance. Extending a finger and opening her eyes, she blinked as she swayed.

Picking the room closest to her finger, she happily skipped within.

"Guess that works." Harry shrugged, more amused than anything else as he chose the other one. "Are you going to change?"

Hearing a noise—something between a hum and a chirp—he figured she did.

So he decided to change into the robes as well. Cut rather short and reminiscent of those ancient Roman robes he had seen long ago in muggle school, reaching only around the knees with a pair of short trousers to cover the legs and bandages for the shins and feet, it was very different from anything else he had worn before. Closer to muggle clothing than his Hogwarts robes, really—it didn't even have pockets, but rather there was a pouch to go with the belt around his waist, which would take some getting used to.

"This will take some getting used to…"

Without pockets, he had no idea where to stick his wand. The sleeves weren't long enough for that, either, ending just below the elbow. Maybe he should wrap the bandages around his forearms as well, the way he had seen Faralda and Mirabelle do it?_ Well, for now, I can put it in my waist pouch... _Even so, it was pretty comfortable compared to the thick furs and mantles he started since Dawnstar. Just so long as he didn't spend too much time outside, he suspected.

At least the shoes—thick leather slippers, really—were comfortable. Though he would still prefer a pair of transfigured boots if they had to wade through the snow again.

While he was deep in thought, Luna skipped into his room and twirled in front of him.

"Look, Harry!"

"Huh?" He queried intelligently.

"Ravenclaw colours!"

He blinked rather foolishly, before looking at the robe. It _was_ blue and kind of brownish—not quite bronze, but close enough, he supposed.

"Huh."

Shaking his head, amused at the comment, he wondered what to do next. Look around for Colette Marence?

"Well, well, well… Well well well… So many new faces, so many new hopefuls. The College hasn't felt this packed in _years_."

Harry blinked as someone seemed to appear from shadows. It was another elf, though he possessed neither burning eyes nor golden skin, and he seemed much shorter than Harry had come to expect of elves. On top of that he had a mohawk, which combined with his general behaviour screamed 'petty criminal'. Just the kind of person the Dursleys had for years told everyone Harry was.

Eyes twinkling, the stranger performed a theatrical bow. "Welcome to the College… Now, let me give you a bit of advice. You want to work on something that's not officially allowed? Don't tell anyone you're doing it. You need something you're not officially supposed to have, you come see me. You tell anyone that I told you, and I'll fry you from the inside out. Got it? Good."

"Err… Alright?" Harry blinked, already fingering his wand.

Usually at the start of his school-year Malfoy would come and pick a fight, but it was a first to have someone happily threatened him with anything more than a hexing. At the same time, given how this stranger was advertising him and his services, it felt like a mirror of Fred and George's side-business in Hogwarts, before they had left.

Still, there was something the elf had said that caught his interest.

"Fry from the inside out? You know thunder magic, then?"

The elf blinked. This was not what he had expected to be a point of interest, apparently. Shrugging, the elf nodded. "Shock is—shall we say—the thinking mer's choice of spell when it comes to a trouble, no?"

"Err, alright?" Not quite sure what that meant, Harry forged on. "Well, umm, so you're familiar with healing from shock spells? With how they can hurt people?"

"Hmm, more or less…" Perhaps sensing an opportunity, the elf stepped closer as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So you're looking to experiment on live subjects then?"

Harry's eyes widened. "O-oh no, no. That's, that's not what I want at all."

"Hmm…" Sounding disappointed, the elf shrugged. "Then what?"

Glancing at Luna, Harry hesitated. "Well, uh… A few days back…"

He explained how they had fought someone using lightning and finally, Luna showed the marking on her arm.

"Now, that is _interesting_. You're actually smarter than you look, kid."

Harry frowned, growing slightly annoyed but keeping the sentiment down now that the elf was talking.

"Shock can do a lot of weird things, but if you don't haven't had any big problems yet, I wouldn't worry. But if you're worried, you could talk to Faralda or Colette. They will know more. I can, of course, also provide certain potions and services for pain ailment and wound treatment, should you require such…"

"Oh, uh, no thanks for now. We'll go see Colette, I guess."

The elf shrugged. "Your coin, your choice. Don't be a stranger now…" Then he turned around to leave just as soundlessly as he had shown up, pausing at the doorway only to give them a grin. "Oh, the name is Enthir, by the by. Drop by when you need anything."

And with that, they were left alone again.

Exchanging a look with Luna, he shrugged as she smiled. It was certainly different from Hogwarts.

"Should we go look around?"

"Oh yes, that sounds like fun," she answered, jumping up at the prospect of further exploration.

Grinning, he nodded. "Then, let's..."

Harry halted, noticing he was walking in a different direction than Luna was. They blinked owlishly, before shrugging.

"Meet you at noon?" he asked, pointing at the wall between their room's doors.

She nodded excitedly and dashed away, up a set of spiralling stairs embedded in the far wall. Shrugging again, Harry headed for the door out to the courtyard.

He had a new magical castle to explore.

* * *

As it turned out, the College wasn't very magical at all.

Not compared to Hogwarts, anyhow.

No ghosts, no talking paintings, no funny or baffling tapestries, no hidden doors or secret chamber... Not even any abandoned classrooms or four houses. Maybe there was something more to this place, but at first glance, Harry hadn't managed to find any of it. Eventually, his wandering look-see led him back to the great double doors of the Hall of the Elements, where he had been told most of the lectures would take place.

Entering gingerly, he looked around and spotted a tall hooded figure ahead wearing similar robes to himself—the vestments of a College Apprentice.

Reasoning that he could enter freely, he closed the great door behind him.

It made just enough noise for the figure to hear him, they turned around to face each other. And what Harry saw made his eyebrows vanish into his hair; a tall, two-legged cat-man with a rather impressive and dark moustache. Harry blinked mouth hanging open as he wondered. Noticing his astonishment, the cat-man _sneered_.

"J'zargo sees that the whelp before him has never seen a Khajiit before," he said in a surprisingly rich and dark voice. "But that is only right. The Whelp should rightly fear J'zargo."

Emphasizing his words, the cat-man—J'zargo—took one step forward and bared the sharp claws on his left hand, brandishing the cruel hooks in front of Harry's eyes.

"Ermm... Polyjuice accident?" Harry ventured, hoping to calm the strange cat-man.

J'zargo blinked twice, then, seeing no hint of apprehension or fear, J'zargo frowned and withdrew his claws and hand.

"J'zargo would never be so careless with... pol-e-juice," he denied, suddenly appearing almost flustered but doing his best to appear as if he knew what he was talking about. Then, seeking for a change in subject, he asked: "You are another new student at the College, yes?"

Harry nodded and looked down at their matching robes. "Since just this morning, yes."

The cat-man nodded suspiciously but accepted that.

"Have you learned the Expert-level Destruction spells yet?"

"Err... No?"

Smirking, J'zargo replied: "Then _J'zargo _shall be the first to do so."

"Alright?" Harry nodded. "Well, good luck with that, I suppose."

He didn't really see the big idea, but if the car-man had his heart set on it, then he wished the best of luck to him. Figuring that the conversation was at an end, Harry looked past his fellow apprentice into the hall ahead. It was a large circular room, not a square like he had come to expect from Hogwarts, with tall pillars near the wall and large windows that overlooked the sea of ghosts beyond.

It looked as if there was someone inside; an older man seated by the windows as he ate something in silence. But that aside the hall was empty.

"Then you are here for the Restoration lecture, yes?" J'zargo suddenly queried.

"Restoration?" Harry paused, deciding in that instant. "Yes, that's right. I heard that she's one of the best healers in Skyrim."

This would probably be a good way to meet the healer, seeing as how he hadn't anything about a medical wing, like back in Hogwarts. It wasn't as if he had a proper plan yet, but no reason to avoid a lecture. Well, not that he had any experience with healing... So it might be as if he was jumping into N.E.W.T. lectures without even having written his O.W.L.s first.

The taller apprentice scoffed but did not disagree as he too turned to enter the Hall of the Elements.

A woman in similar robes to those of Faralda appeared from a side entrance, closing the door leading to a set of stairs up behind her, giving the pair of them a snooty look. Short brown, braided hair framed her suspicious eyes as she peered at them, but she said nothing as she strode past them into the hall.

Harry and J'zargo exchanged looks before shrugging and following the woman.

Inside the man that had been eating by the window seemed to hurriedly pack up his things and leave, having noticed the woman's arrival. The woman had noticed it as well but did his best to appear dignified. Somehow it reminded Harry of his aunt but he did his best to swallow the burgeoning sense of wariness.

With only two listeners, she archly began.

"I would just like to remind everyone, _once again_, that Restoration is indeed a valid school of magic. It is absolutely worthy of research, despite many of the notes I've had left in my bed. And my desk. And on occasion, my meals."

Harry blinked.

This _wasn't _what he had expected. Again, he exchanged glances with J'zargo who appeared just as surprised, in his own veiled way. The cat-man definitely would have been a Slytherin.

Ignoring them, the woman continued in her nasal tone: "_Anyone _suggesting that Restoration is better left to the priests of the Temples, I think, is forgetting a few things." She paused for emphasis. "_Firstly_, the ability to repel the undead cannot be ignored. Skyrim is well known to be full of these... Draugr, ancient Nord warriors who cannot find peace."

Harry leaned to the side, whispering quietly.

"What's a _Draugr?_"

J'zargo gave him a calculating look but pointedly returned his gaze to the lecture.

"I submit that everyone in this College has, at one time or another, relied on one of the Restoration spells that can keep them at bay."

Harry was fairly sure he hadn't, but given the way she spoke of it, he was hesitant to point that out.

"_Secondly_, how can anyone forget wards?"

"Err, wot?" Harry couldn't help himself, interrupting the woman. She glared at him as he closed his mouth with a click.

Still, he didn't understand what healing had to do with setting up wards.

She continued, perhaps a bit crossly now.

"Wards have become essential to any mage working in dangerous situations. They are counted upon every bit as much as the Candlelight, or Invisibility, spell. But more importantly, wards have saved lives. This is a simple fact. Every mage in this College regularly uses wards for practice, so as to avoid physical harm."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Wards were definitely useful, but he had never considered how one went about learning how to cast them before. If he didn't have other priorities right now...

"Thirdly—and this is something that everyone has forgotten—_attributes_." She sniffed disdainfully. "Not only in restoring them should they have been drained, but also _fortifying_ them temporarily. Who has ever wished that they could be just a little bit stronger? A little bit faster? A little bit luckier? With Restoration, you can."

She smiled a self-satisfied smile, for a shuddering moment reminding Harry of Umbridge. Clearing her throat and managing for the moment's similarity to thankfully pass, she continued.

"I truly hope that these points actually sink in and that more care and thought is given to this subject in the future. Thank you."

The lecture concluded, the woman strode out decisively, avoiding any eye-contact.

Hesitating just for a moment and it was already too late; she had vanished the way she had come.

"Huh."

J'zargo too hurried out of the circular hall now that the lecture was over, leaving Harry alone without so much as a goodbye.

Feeling out of place in the hall, he too left quickly. But rather than returning outside through the double doors he had earlier passed through, he turned to the stairs upwards. Up one floor at the end of the stairs, Harry blinked as he saw a large library opening up to his right, fitted into a circular hall just above the Hall of the Elements.

It was by no means to the tens of thousands of books that lined the Hogwarts library, but even so the overflowing number of books—stuffed into shelves and piling up on floors and tables all around the hall—impressed Harry.

Taking tentative steps, he looked around until he spotted someone.

He smiled with recognition.

A familiar blonde was sitting beside a white-haired elf—a dark elf, like Erandur—and talking excitedly about something, not even looking up though she had a clear line of sight to Harry.

"—and they have five legs, they're very hairy, with curling horns like _this_ that are crumpled! They're very hard to find, so daddy and I think that they must have some kind of magic to hide from sight, or that they are very clever besides."

What was she talking about now? Quintapeds? That didn't quite seem like her though, Harry through with amusement, even as the elf between them spoke.

"Fascinating!" and it truly did sound like he thought so. "And where did you say you searched for them, again?"

"Oh, we went to Sweden for a summer using the money we made from Harry's interview—Oh, hello Harry!" Luna brightened up and waved excitably at him and he had to chuckle as he waved back.

"Hullo. Talking about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?"

She nodded twice as the dark-skinned elf turned around in his seat to look at Harry.

He was wearing very fine robes, yet the cut was different from any of those that he had seen previously, leaving him unable to identify whether or not he was a part of the College staff. His hair stood straight up as if he had taken a shower and gone to bed upside down to let it dry, giving him an air of permanent surprise.

"Hello, sir. I'm Harry, we just arrived today."

"Hello!" He had a pleased expression, his wide-eyes and curious yet also dotty expression somehow very reminiscent of Luna. "Yes, I can see that. I haven't seen you here before! Luna here was helping me realize that I wasn't quite as invisible as I had thought I was; she has been a great help, and a wonderful conversationalist besides."

Like peas in a pod, Harry thought as he nodded.

"Are you studying here at the College as well?"

"Of course! I've never stopped—there is _always_ something more you can refine in your spells. But I do also teach! Drevis Neloren, Master of Illusion!" he announced cheerfully with growing excitement in a voice that echoed through the library.

At the back of the large room, a large orc gave them a withering glare, but none of them paid it any heed.

"Oh, a pleasure to meet you, sir," Harry smoothly continued, his five-and-a-half years at Hogwarts—if nothing else, _at least_—having prepared him for odd and colourful characters. Looking at Luna, he asked: "Do you want to learn Illusion spells, Luna?"

She blinked, completely floored by the question. Raising a finger to her mouth, she considered the question with intense concentration, her eyebrows almost touching as she pondered. Harry rolled his eyes with humour, not having expected her to take the question so seriously, so he turned back to look at Drevis.

"What is Illusion magic like, sir?"

"It's the least appreciated of the five schools!" he cheerfully replied, already Harry of the strange lecture on Restoration he had heard earlier. "But in principle, it is very similar to Alteration; both change the world so that physical truths no longer hold. But unlike Alteration, Illusion is not bound by the laws of nature, so you could say that they are without limits!"

"Oh," Harry said, thinking that he hadn't really understood a word.

"Its only weakness, if it could be called such, is that Illusion spells only affect a target or the caster. Ensnaring the minds of others, creating light in the dark, inspiring courage in your fellows and becoming invisible are but few of the things a Master of Illusion can do!"

That... actually cleared it up a little bit.

"So they're spells that have to do with perception?"

"Indeed!"

Harry nodded, hesitating whether or not he should ask if it also included the mind arts. His previous year's disastrous attempts with Snape still fresh in mind, he decided to forego the question and instead turned to Luna.

"What about you, Luna? Found anything interesting?"

"Oh yes, I was transfigured into a cow and a horse and a dog," she replied casually.

Blinking and thinking back, he prodded: "By the Alteration teacher?"

It was the only subject he could immediately tie transfiguration to, though the connection to Conjuration seemed a possibility as well.

"Oh no," she shook her head. "Brelyna is a new student, just like we are. She also gave me green eyes for a while."

Not sure how to take that, Harry could only nod. "Oh... kay?"

Luna didn't seem hurt or particularly bothered by the experience, so even though human transfiguration was an extremely advanced subject, he supposed it was fine. Though now that he thought back on the subject he was immediately reminded of Moody—or rather, Barty Crouch Jr. In disguise—transfiguring Malfoy into a ferret, and so his mood soured.

The two-fold downer of wondering if Luna was already being bullied here along with the reminder of Malfoy and the urgency of getting back to Hogwarts was obvious, as Luna was now peering up at him curiously.

Shaking his head, he looked to Drevis.

"Ah, sir, would you mind if Luna and I talk a bit, privately?"

The dark elf looked at Harry curiously, taking no offense as he jumped to his feet. "Of course, of course. I should get back to my room—hopefully, that book I turned invisible has finally popped up again!"

And so he left the library without further ado.

Harry, feeling a little awkward and guilty now, ran a hand through his hair and sat down in the now free chair.

"So, found anything?" he asked Luna, before specifying slightly quietly. "About getting back home, or your arm, y'know?"

She nodded, kicking her feet in the chair and swaying back and forth.

"Cpmjuration," she said. "It's very different from Hogwarts."

"Oh? How so?"

Luna hadn't taken part in N.E.W.T. transfiguration yet, but she _was _a Ravenclaw, so he couldn't put it past her to already be familiar with the subject and figured he could trust her on her word, but he was still curious as to why she thought so. That, and he still didn't quite understand how her head always worked, so it was better to make sure she hadn't understood something in an... _alternative_ way.

Regardless, she leaned closer, as if to share a secret with him. Unable to help himself. Harry too leaned in.

"Professor Gestor—he's the master on Conjuration here, a very busy man, given how little he must sleep—summoned a Heliopath with it, you see. There was nothing, and then, a big ball of purple fire _like so!_" Her hands shot to the side, as if gesticulating an explosion, complete with an excited _bwoosh_ sound effect. "It looked like a woman on fire! And everyone knows only the English Ministry of Magic has Heliopaths!"

Harry felt his face twitch, but said nothing as he leaned back.

"Are... Are you sure they didn't just control a fire spell?" He didn't want to outright question the veracity of her creatures.

Luna shook her head.

"He said they're summoned from oblivion, that they can't normally live here. I suppose it must be very cold for them..." she mused thoughtfully.

"Oblivion?"

The word had awful connotations; he thought he could vaguely remember some sailors in Dawnstar cursing by the place in the same vein 'hell' might have been sued back in Britain. And hadn't Erandur mentioned it as well, in relation to Vaermina?

Regardless, she nodded and picked up a book that lay on the table between them, handing it to him. "Professor Neloren gave this to me when I asked him about it."

Harry gingerly accepted the book, frowning at the title. _On Oblivion._

Cracking open a page, he read:

_It is improper, however customary, to refer to the denizens of the dimension of Oblivion as "demons." This practice probably dates to the Alessian Doctrines of the First Era prophet Marukh which, rather amusingly, forbade "trafficke with daimons" and then neglected to explain what daimons were. It is most probable that "daimon" is a misspelling or etymological rendition of "Daedra," the old Elven word for those strange, powerful creatures of uncertain motivation who hail from the dimensions of Oblivion._

"Oh."

Suddenly the comparison to hell felt much too apt for his liking. And as he read on, his stomach only sunk deeper, through the chair and floor it seemed like.

_Apparently, Oblivion is a place composed of many lands—thus the many names for which Oblivion is synonymous: Coldharbour, Quagmire, Moonshadow, etc. It may be correctly supposed that each land of Oblivion is ruled over by one prince. The Daedric Princes whose names appear over and over in ancient records (though this is not an infallible test of their authenticity or explicit existence, to be sure) are the aforementioned Sanguine, Boethiah, Molag Bal, and Sheogorath, and in addition, Azura, Mephala, Clavicus Vile, Vaermina, Malacath, Hoermius (or Hermaeus or Hormaius or Herma—there seems to be no one accepted spelling) Mora, Namira, Jyggalag, Nocturnal, Mehrunes Dagon, and Peryite. From my experience, Daedra are a very mixed lot. It is almost impossible to categorize them as a whole except for their immense power and penchant for extremism. Be that as it may, I have here attempted to do so in a few cases, purely for the sake of scholastic expediency. Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, Peryite, Boethiah, and Vaermina are among the most consistently "demonic" of the Daedra, in the sense that their spheres seem to be destructive in nature. The other Daedra can, of course, be equally dangerous, but seldom purely for the sake of destruction as these five can. Nor are these previous five identical in their destructiveness. Mehrunes Dagon seems to prefer natural disasters—earthquakes and volcanoes—for venting his anger. Molag Bal elects the employment of other Daedra, and Boethiah inspires the arms of mortal warriors. Peryite's sphere seems to be pestilence, and Vaermina's torture._

Vaermina—they had already run into her and her cult once before. And apparently there were loads more of its ilk in Oblivion. Loads and loads, all more or less incredibly dangerous.

Closing the book and swallowing the queasy feeling he had developed, he looked at Luna. "This uh, seems pretty dangerous. Summoning demons, or well, daedra, doesn't seem like a very safe thing to do."

"And expensive." Luna nodded sagely.

"Yeah, and—What? Really?"

She nodded again. "We can afford four, maybe five simple spells."

Harry nodded slowly, grimacing. Mirabelle had explained as much to them, hadn't she? Running a hand through his hair, he tried to think about their options. It did seem like they would come to need a lot more gold, just as he had expected they would.

Which meant they couldn't just pick and choose to learn anything that caught their fancy. Or, at least no longer without considering how much it would cost besides the time they were wasting. Hadn't J'zargo mentioned Expert-level spells? Those would probably be even more expensive.

Looking at Luna, he asked: "Do you think Conjuration is our way back home?"

She tilted her head, looking at the corner of the ceiling above for a second.

When she didn't answer for a full minute, he reasoned that she didn't know. Therefore... "Okay, do you _want to_ learn Conjuration?"

To that, she could answer immediately with a "Yes, Harry."

He nodded, crossing his arms and lowering his gaze to the floor. He had already started studying Restoration, so he figured if he wanted to make sure Luna was alright, he should pursue that. For now, at least. It was a short-term and a long-term goal, he supposed, since he doubted there would ever come a time when he wouldn't need some form of healing. Besides, there was no Madam Pomfrey here, so when he inevitably got into a big fight at the end of the year...

Shaking his head at the morbid thought, he reminded himself that he could probably ask Erandur for pointers as well, since the dark elf had seemed very confident in his healing skills.

So if he was stuck with that, it would mean he couldn't research how to get them back. In that sense, entrusting it to Luna—who he knew was probably smarter than he was, being a Ravenclaw and all—seemed like the right decision.

Harry nodded.

"Okay, here's the plan..." he said finally, looking up at Luna, who had been staring at him for a while now. "You'll look into Conjuration and getting us back home while I try to look into your spell wounds—we'll both buy one or two spells each with the money we have to start with, okay?" When she nodded, he continued. "And then once we're sure you're fine, I'll... get a job. Or I'll try to make money, anyhow. _Somehow_. Enough that you can buy all the spells and books you'll need."

Luna looked at him with wide eyes and for a second he didn't know what she was thinking. And then she nodded.

"Okay, Harry." He sighed, half in relief and half in resignation. He actually had no idea how to make money reliably, now that he thought about it, something which Luna seemed to pick up on. "Are you going to go hunting for more mudcrabs again?"

"You know, I just might have to," he groused.

"I'm sure Frida will be happy to see us again," Luna said with a smile.

Nodding, Harry felt a little lighter. Even if he had no idea how to make money, he had his wand and his magic. Surely there would be a way from one to the other. Else why had he spent so much time and effort on his O.W.L.s?

Which reminded him...

"Since it's so expensive, it can't be helped... How were your O.W.L. studies going?"

Luna regarded him curiously for a second.

"I may not have gotten the best results last year, but I'm still pretty confident I can teach you a thing or two..." He chuckled ruefully. "How do you feel about re-starting the D.A. meetings again? Well, just with two of us, I suppose."

Her eyes widened with her bright smile as she nodded twice, before freezing. "Oh..."

"Hmm?"

"Well, I don't have my galleon with me. How will I know when we'll meet?"

Harry blinked before he snorted. "Well, I don't have mine either. I'm sure we'll manage."

That seemed to put her at ease.

"Oh okay, Harry."

He nodded and leaned back in the chair.

It felt good to get some grip on their situation. They were still hopelessly lost, but at least they were doing something now to rectify that. One step at a time and sooner or later they'd get home, he told himself.

* * *

**Way too many citations from the game in this chapter. Avoided the Tolfdir lecture on purpose, though, since the College questline isn't _that_ interesting.**

**Also read through the first five chapters and did (quite a bit) of cleaning on the text. I'm a bit dyslexic and this has been a project intended for relaxed writing, so I haven't really put in as much polish as it might have deserved.**


	8. Cloak & Digger

Teaching Luna one on one turned out to be a very different experience from teaching her in a group, Harry realized the following morning.

As soon as they had woken up and eaten, they had trudged up to the top of the College where they could practise in peace. After a minute of admiring the breathtaking sights—the glittering glaciers of white and blues, sparkling seas of rainbow jewels and hues, and the meandering mountains of dominating the landside view, all in the first light of dawn—and applying several layers of warming charms, they began.

Alone and free to ask questions without having to contend with a dozen other voices, the 'lesson' would meander and wander as Harry tried to explain and answer her many, many outlandish questions, making the time simply fly by and allowing quite sneakily dawn to transform into noon. Standing atop the battlements of the tower their quarters were in, they had plenty of space and privacy to practice. The sun rose slowly, perhaps half an hour after they had begun, and they continued for several hours more.

For that matter, teaching Transfiguration was also very different from teaching DADA, as where he had confidence and a clear structure in mind for how to impart spells and the knowledge on how and where to use them, with the slightly weaker subject he floundered slightly from spell to spell without any clear purpose or point. It all seemed very scattered and confusing, despite how often it had been drilled into his head that Transfiguration was the most rigorous and scientific of magical arts. He had promised to help Luna catch up on fifth-year studies, but he hardly remembered what he had been taught in fifth year Transfiguration. Though much of it had been essays and on parchment, and so hardly worth remembering, he supposed in his own defence.

Perhaps it was all just a matter of his own poor overall understanding, something which he lamely thought he should rectify now that he was tutoring the subject.

While she had turned out to be a very skilled and exacting Transfigurer, capable of making finely-detailed work, she did not quite match up to his own when it came to weight or viciousness. To make a large Transfiguration, she needed much longer than he did to complete the spell.

Harry wondered whether he should just teach her Conjuration—since that was what he had been learning himself and remembered best—but ultimately decided against it. Having grown more aware of his own shaky grasp on the finer points of the art of Transfiguration, they settled on practising Vanishing: he clearly remembered Vanishing that iguana in his own O.W.L.s. By noon they had walked the entire circuit of the battlements, Vanishing all the snow and ice covering the stone as they went, having begun making snowmen and various kinds of creatures out of the stuff halfway through to mimic objects and creatures of various sizes and shapes, which turned out to be more fun than the actual lesson.

Regardless of how much fun they had had, Harry walked down the stairs at noon feeling slightly miffed about how out of hid depth he felt. Perhaps he should ask someone at the College for help? The Alteration Master, or perhaps the fellow student who had managed Human Transfiguration on Luna yesterday?

Something to think about while they ate lunch.

* * *

"Yes?"

Harry hesitated, the arched brow and nasal voice halting the question before he had even managed to utter it. He swallowed and gathered his courage, reminding himself that he was Gryffindor.

"Professor Marence," he began and cringed as her nose curdled up in response, as if she had bitten into a lemon or smelt something sour. "I, uh, I wanted to learn more about Restoration magic."

She peered suspiciously at him. "And I suppose you will be wanting to learn how to _heal_, then?"

"Err..." He swallowed, before nodding hesitantly. "Yes?"

Colette sniffed and straightened, gaining another inch—though still standing a good three shorter than him—she stared at him disdainfully. "And what _wards_ then? What purpose is there in learning to heal when one could learn to ward instead? _This _is exactly why I am harassed and looked down upon—why _the school of Restoration _does not get the _recognition _it _deserves_!"

"Erm, well, I think wards are pretty important too," Harry agreed weakly. "But, I'd like to learn about healing, too."

"Of _course _you do," she said patronizingly. "But Restoration will never grow if it concerns itself solely with merely healing. It can never rise above what already is, if all people seek to do is _healing._"

Beginning to feel a little fed-up, Harry let loose his tongue. "Well, isn't that was _Restoring _means?"

Colette went very still and pale, eyeing him with a shocked expression. Biting his tongue to keep from saying anything more, Harry cleared his throat and hoped he hadn't shot down his only chance at learning already.

"That..." she said shakily, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "Is that why...?"

Harry kept quiet, waiting for a chance to say something else even as he couldn't think of anything worthwhile.

The Restoration mage looked up, a determined look in her eyes now. "I must change the name!"

And with that she stormed off, leaving a perplexed Harry behind.

"Err, but what about...?"

But she was already gone.

Harry blinked, lowering his extended hand as bewilderment overtook him. Mirabelle had mentioned that Colette could be insecure, but this exceeded the level of just that. How was he supposed to learn if the teachers wouldn't even teach him?

Sighing and shaking his head, he too left.

What was he going to do now? He couldn't just lounge about for the rest of the day. Luna would by now be talking with the Conjuration Master, so he couldn't very well seek her out, nor did he want to with this failure on his hands. Cringing at the thought of having to admit to failing, he ran a hand through his messy hair.

What options did that leave him with then?

Coming out into the courtyard, he sighed and looked up as the gale wind from the sea blew snow into his face. And spotted a tall form walking up ahead.

"...Faralda!" he exclaimed.

The golden-hued elf stopped, turning around and Harry could see the moment she spotted him and he realized that she must have heard him despite being halfway across the courtyard.

"Ah, our newest apprentice—Harry Potter," she said in reply. "Do you intend to come and listen to my lecture?" she asked, her clarion-clear voice carrying clearly across the courtyard.

"On Destruction magic?" Harry asked and jogged up to her, craning his neck to look up at her.

"Indeed," she replied with some amusement. "Though I have decided that perhaps a more temporal subject may be of value, with so many new faces among us."

Harry blinked. "Oh, uh, okay?" Shaking his head, he gathered his Gryffindor courage once anew, suppressing the wince that came with remembering his earlier attempt's crash and burn. "Could we talk afterward?"

"Certainly. I admit to wishing for a conversation with you as well, Harry," she said, giving him a pointed look and upon seeing him nod, turned to continue to her lecture. "We shall discuss further afterward, then."

He nodded and jogged to catch up to her longer strides. She wasn't quite on the level of Madame Maxime—Beauxbatons' half-giant headmistress—but she still towered over just about everyone else, a commonality among the yellow-skinned elves in Skyrim.

Unlike the previous day's lecture with the almost-empty hall, Faralda and Harry entered to find the Hall of the Elements quite full. Noting the numerous apprentice robes, he realized how popular Destruction magic was. Skyrim was a harsh place, so perhaps it made sense.

Spotting a familiar feline figure, Harry walked over to J'zargo and nodding a greeting to the cat-man. The slitted eyes narrowed and the gesture was returned coolly. Beside him was another golden-hued and tall elf, though she had longer hair than Faralda and a very long and pointy face, that made it look like she was perpetually scowling.

Staring down at Harry, her eyes narrowed. "It's lies. All of it. I don't know what she told you, it's all lies."

Having said her piece, she turned a fierce glare at Faralda who was getting ready for the lecture and then turned to stomp on out of the hall.

Turning a confused eye to J'zargo, Harry noted how amused the cat seemed. Perhaps taking pity on the poor confused student, his lips curled into a smirk and whispered with great amusement. "Politics."

"Ah." Harry nodded, as if that explained everything even if it didn't really explain anything and instead turned his attention to Faralda.

She stood tall, facing the crowd and stared them down until finally it quieted.

"Destruction magic has generally come to be known as elemental magic today, and for good reason. As much as some may chortle at the elemental challenge of remembering but three branches, few will deny their effectiveness. Fire, frost and shock are the signatures of battle-magic and have reigned on the ancient Arena since time immemorial. But is that all? Do not the old tales and accounts speak of Destruction magic as so much more? Of enfeebling and draining enemies of their strength and of vanquishing their weapons and armour? These spells still exist and are under the auspice of the school of Destruction.

"Then why are they no longer taught?"

A hushed silence came over the lecture hall as Faralda looked them over with a raised brow.

Seeing as how no one was willing to venture, she shook her head and continued.

"It is simply a matter of _time_."

Harry blinked.

"Time and time. As the years pass, more and more spells will accumulate into records. Even today, when one would think that all notable spells should have already been discovered, there seems to be an ever-increasing discovery of new spells." At this, she paused and gave a knowing smile to the crowd. "Of course, most of these spells, are in fact, not new at all. But merely re-discovered and re-researched ventures to the same problems mages have always faced. But should this state of affairs then not lead into an endless accumulation of spells? Into a wealth of magic that would boggle the mind and memory of any apprentice seeking their masteries?"

She paused again for effect, a lone brow encouraging any questions, though none came. So she continued.

"That would be the case, were we to simply satisfy ourselves with _research_ and _cataloguing_ of magical spells and mystical effects. But, as Humius Acidinus wrote, it is in studying the seemingly simplest manifestations of magicka that provide the clearest look into the nature of magic." Faralda nodded, satisfaction at the apparent citation obvious as she let her words sink in. "Some would argue that the school of Destruction is among the simplest of schools, that there could be nothing easier than finding out how to maximize the damage wrought in relation to magicka spent and time used. _But_, those people will never achieve the highest levels of mastery when it comes to and I would encourage them to read Malviser the Battlemage's response to Illusionist Bero's speech."

Harry wondered if he should have been taking notes, given all the apparent citations and references thrown his way, yet he could not see anyone with either parchment or paper around him, nor was there any surface for taking notes either, standing up as they all were.

Another keenly felt difference to Hogwarts' education.

"Therefore, rather than learning one hundred spells for one hundred problems, seek to _master _ten and to leverage those masteries into a _thousand_ problems. As you will find out, with merely the three _elemental_ branches, it is more than possible to cover a great many talents." Faralda smiled wickedly, then. "Or don't. It is your coin lining my pockets when you purchase those spells." Satisfied with that, she nodded and there was a smattering of applause which Harry joined in on, as he realized the lecture was over.

"Tomorrow I shall deliver a lecture on the respective strengths of the various elemental branches, for any who wish to tread the path of Destruction."

Walking over to Harry, she said: "Shall we?"

He nodded and followed after her.

But not to her office—as it did not seem as if any of the professors at the College had any—but rather to the Arcanaeum one floor above. Surrounded by books on all sides again, they sat down in the same chairs Luna and Drevis had sat in the day before.

"Well then, what is it that you wished to discuss with me?" Faralda asked, curious.

"Right, well..." He hesitated, thinking back and trying to figure out how much to say. "Today, after noon I tried talking with Colette about Restoration, and well..."

"Ah," the elf smirked.

Harry flushed hotly, accusation off his lips instantly. "_You said_ she would heal members of the College...!"

Unruffled, Faralda shrugged.

"I assume the matter is not life-threatening? Then it is all well in hand."

"Huh...?"

Raising her hands in a placative gesture, she said: "Colette has always been fickle and insecure. She may have rebuffed—or simply have forgotten you—for now, but sooner or later, if you continue asking, she will be more than happy to accept you as a student."

Blinking as he felt his temper cool, Harry finally nodded, though he remained mostly unconvinced.

"Then, I'd like _your _help."

"Mine?" Faralda asked with an amused expression. "I am quite capable at Restoration, but I am no healer, Harry."

"But you do know about electric spells, right?" he pressed.

She blinked, leaning back with an uncertain expression. "Eclectic?"

Harry frowned, before he realized that the word was muggle from his world. Without modern technology, was it reasonable to expect them to know it?

"Lightning, I mean," he explained and now the elf nodded. "Luna was hit by lightning and now she has a mark on her arm, one that looks like a spreading fork of lightning."

"A mark...? On her skin, you mean?" Faralda asked and upon his nod, asked further: "Any burns, besides? Or loss of hearing or sight?"

Harry hesitantly shook his head. He had pestered Luna about how she felt and she had said nothing to that effect.

"When was she struck?"

"A couple of days ago... She was pretty weak and tired the next day, too. I tried to find some healing potions but Frida—the potioneer did not have anything on hand."

The elf frowned, looking very confused as she leaned back. "Are you certain that she was struck by lightning?"

"Yes. I was almost hit, too. I know what electricity looks like," he replied a touch sarcastically.

"_Ah_, of course." Faralda nodded. "You are not speaking of _lightning _from the sky, but of shock spells."

"There's a difference?" Harry blinked.

"Is there a difference between the fire in a fireplace and the fire in a forest fire?" She asked, brow arched with amusement.

When she put it like that, it seemed quite obvious.

Shaking her head, she continued. "If those are the extents of her injuries, I would not worry overmuch. Shock spells tend to be very dramatic in results, and if she has recovered already to such an extent, then I doubt there will be any further complications."

"Oh," he said, sitting back into the chair relieved.

"I do hope that this means you will not be opting out from tomorrow's lecture."

Harry flushed. He had been thinking that there was no need to attend any further lectures, if Luna was in fact alright. "W-well..."

Having made her point, she changed the subject.

"I would like to see that wand of yours for a moment, if I may?"

"Oh, uh... Sure?" he said, reaching for his wand and then hesitating.

It always felt a little bit awkward—as if it was a private act somehow. Still, she had helped him, so...

"Hmm...?" Faralda curiously looked over the wand in her hands, rolling it around and looking at it from every angle, swishing it once but finding no result. Finally, she handed it back. "A curious enchantment. I've never seen its like before."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. "I bought it when I turned eleven. They're pretty common back home."

So far Luna had been quite open about life back home, so he wondered if that would work for him too. Faralda nodded, though she did not appear very interested beyond what she had already figured from her observation of the wand.

"Staves and scrolls are common enough apparel, as are rings and other forms of jewellery..." She said, raising a hand to show a single band of gold around her index finger. "But wands are quite uncommon."

"What about diadems?" Seeing the elf's frown, Harry tried again, gesticulating to show how it was worn. "I mean, tiaras."

"Ah, yes. Circlets. Quite common, often with defensive enchantments."

"Huh..." Well, maybe Luna would be interested to know that, since the diadem seemed to be broken. They didn't talk much more than that, other than the unspoken agreement for Harry to attend tomorrow's lecture as well.

* * *

"Hello Enthir," Harry said as he jogged up to the shorter elf who adopted a knowing look.

"And a hello to you, too. Looking for a _conversation_?"

Harry nodded. "Something like that, yes."

"Alright, let's go somewhere more private." The elf said and motioned for Harry to follow with his head, turning towards the Hall of Attainment and their rooms. They walked all the way back to the second floor of the Hall of Attainment, which as he had understood it was for the senior students.

"Now, what can Enthir fix you up with? I assume Colette turned out to be a, ah, bust...?" Enthir drawled with a smirk.

Shrugging and feeling more than ever that he was dealing with a spiritual brethren of the twins—if perhaps, a touch more dangerous and Dark—he decided that humour would serve him well here. "I might have... put it in her head that she shouldn't call it _restoration_ if she has a problem with healing."

The mohawked man stilled, his eyes peering intently at Harry for a long second. Then he burst out laughing, both hands clutching at his belly as he doubled over and leaned back against the wall for support.

"Ahahah... Oh, oh wow. I had wondered what'd put her in _such_ a tizzy."

Grinning, Harry shrugged again and waited for the elf to gather his wits anew before continuing.

"So, well, I was hoping to discuss buying and selling things with you, actually."

Enthir smiled wickedly and sat down on a chair, motioning for Harry to do the same on another. "Well, well, a customer who understands the value of discretion. I'm _impressed_, usually I have to deal with the boneheaded researcher types who'll blab about any questionable thing they want to get their hands on right out in the open... So, what are you in the market for?"

"Money."

The elf chortled and leaned back. "Aren't we all...? But go on."

Here Harry hesitated. He knew that Enthir would be the easiest and fastest of getting money, assuming he operated anything like the twins did, but he didn't know how to convince the other to let him help for a slice of that pie.

"I assume you buy and sell a lot of potions...?"

Neither confirming nor denying it, the elf motioned with his hand for Harry to go on.

"Would you be interested in any potions with... _unique_ effects? Things like..." Harry searched for something from memory, something which might be of interest to the people of Skyrim. It was unexpectedly difficult, as something like a babbling potion or a pompion potion wouldn't be worth much to anyone here.

It would take something like Veritaserum or Polyjuice potion, Harry knew. The problem was, he didn't have the skill to brew either of those. And, more importantly, he would need to find the ingredients himself for any potion he wanted to brew. The list of potions that Harry _could_ brew was actually very short, he was beginning to realize.

Enthir frowned, starting to look impatient.

"An Invigoration Draught?" Harry tried, speaking of the first potion that came to mind that he felt halfway certain about brewing.

"A restorative of some kind?" Enthir leaned back in his chair again, considering. "There's very little demand for healing potions here, mages tend to avoid getting injured as a rule," he said with a smirk. "_But_... stamina and more importantly magicka restoratives are always popular. Do you have any on hand, then? A sample, if you will?"

Harry shook his head.

"But I can brew some, just as long as I have the ingredients."

Scoffing, the elf threw up his hands. "And _this_ is where I suppose you'll be asking for an _advance_...?"

"A what?" Harry blinked. "No, I just need... I don't know, maybe a week to gather the ingredients and brew a sample."

"Hmm..." Enthir didn't look quite convinced, but finally nodded with a grimace. Standing up, he walked up to Harry and pointed at him with narrowed eyes. "You'd better make it worth my while, _alright?_ I don't take well to people butting into my business just to waste my time, _alright?_"

"A week," Harry said, not intimidated by the elf as much as he was by the task before him.

"Well... If that was everything..." The elf opened the door and gestured for Harry to leave.

Finding all of those ingredients wouldn't be _easy, _as he mentally listed what he remembered: honeywater, vervain, scurvy grass and lovage... Or sneezewort, if he remembered correctly. Wincing, he figured he would ask Luna if she had any ideas on where to find those ingredients.

* * *

"Silly Harry. There's too much snow to go looking for herbs."

"Oh, right. _Winter_."

That did put a rather considerable damper on his plans. No wonder Enthir had appeared so sceptical about Harry finding the ingredients in time. Grimacing, he realized he would probably have to buy all the ingredients. And he had no idea how much it would cost him.

"Maybe Frida or Erandur would know...?"

"Oh, are you going to visit them?" Luna asked, beaming.

"Yeah, they're the only people I can ask," he said and ran a hand through his messy hair, grimacing again.

The boat ride had been like a tumble through a washing machine, but it had left a layer of salt on everything. The fresh new College robes had been a very welcome change of clothes, but his hair was still grimy and had somehow hardened into an even messier and spikier state than usual. He _really_ wanted to figure out how to bathe and _soon._

"Anyhow, any luck with Conjuration?" he asked, before remembering his own foibles and failures. "Restoration... didn't go so well. I don't think Colette likes me very much. Or _anyone _for that matter. But I talked to Faralda and she says you probably don't have anything to worry about. _Probably._"

"Oh..." Luna blinked, looking down at her arm and the mark she bore there. Already it had faded quite a bit.

"I'm not saying I'll quit trying, though," he hastily reassured her. "If you feel even a little bit under the weather, you'll tell me. Right?"

She nodded serenely, before her gaze began to wander.

"Well, I'm gonna go to Dawnstar now..." Harry said as he got up, noticing the glimmer of excitement in Luna's eyes only as he had already half turned away. "Erm, you wanna come along?"

She nodded twice, all but jumping to throw her shoes back on and coming next to him, humming happily.

Amused, Harry led them back to the battlements where they had practised just this morning. There and out of sight, he offered his elbow and she grabbed a hold of it. Then with an exertion of force and magic, he spun through the world.

The squeezing sensation with Luna in tow was considerably denser compared to when he apparated alone, but somehow the act was coming incredibly naturally to him already. Out of all the magical methods for transportation, apparition was quickly growing to become his favourite. It was an absolute crime he hadn't been taught it before now!

They popped at the outskirts of Dawnstar, just up the road from the Windpeak Inn where they had spent so many nights already.

Immediately their soft boots sunk into the snow and the cold sea wind penetrated their robes. Already feeling the cold seeping into his toes, Harry drew his wand and cast a pair of warming charms. "You'd think the people here would make clothes that keep you warm..."

"A cloak would be nice..." Luna agreed, scrunching her nose slightly.

The College robes included a small leather mantle, just enough to cover the neck and shoulders from rain when coupled with the matching leather hood, but aside from that, they hadn't been provided with any additional over-clothing.

A thick and warm cloak could be very useful.

At night they could throw it over their blankets if it was colder than usual, as well.

"Maybe we can see if the merchants at the docks have anything," Harry pondered as they began approaching the town.

Winterhold—the dilapidated town standing before the College—lacked a proper dock by the sea, so there weren't many places to visit if one wanted to go shopping. From what Harry had heard, beyond the occasional visitor to the College at the inn, there was little of note in the town, so he hadn't even bothered to visit.

Thus, without the ability to apparate further, Dawnstar would remain their best place for shopping.

"Where do you want to go first?" Harry asked, feeling slightly as if he was out on Hogsmeade weekend. The until-now unprecedented amount of freedom in his life, despite everything else, felt quite good.

"Is that Erandur?" Luna asked, pointing ahead.

He followed her gaze, finding a group of orcs at work some distance away at the outskirts of town. There, among them, an orange-robed figure was clear among the much taller and muscular green-skinned men working on moving snow with rough-looking makeshift shovels.

"Yeah! It is," Harry nodded and they began jogging up to them, ignoring the snow piling up into their boots as they raced.

The orcs spotted them first, giving them gruff greetings, but a few seconds later the dark elf turned as well, his expression growing bright and cheerful. "Harry, Luna! What brings you here?"

"We came to visit and see how you were doing," Harry replied, grinning.

Around them, orcs gathered and spoke in low rumbles, but it was obvious they too were more or less glad to see them, in their own gruff way.

"I see you have new robes as well, the College I take it?" They nodded and he continued, voice growing wistful. "The College of Winterhold is an amazing sight. I've never set foot on the grounds themselves, but I have always wanted to visit. How have you liked it so far?"

Harry shrugged. "It's alright."

"There aren't very many Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or other creatures there. They don't have any magizoology or Care for Magical Creatures classes either... But the three-toothed horkers are quite funny," Luna answered, mimicking animatedly with her hands to show their teeth, using her tongue to show the middle one that pointed straight forward.

The dark elf blinked, before laughing heartily.

"If you wish to see more creatures, all you need to do is pick a direction and walk. Skyrim has no lack of interesting wildlife. I've spent nearly my whole wandering the northern parts of Skyrim and I'm sure I haven't seen even half of it yet."

Luna's eyes glittered at the thought as she bounced on her feet.

Harry, too, realized that Erandur's experience could be invaluable. "So you would know a lot about potion ingredients—or, well, you said alchemy before, I suppose..."

"Indeed." He nodded, turning to look at Harry.

"Well, I figured I could do some brewing to make some more money. The College is very expensive, you see."

Erandur nodded, more serious and thoughtful. "Whatever aid I can give you, it's yours."

Harry grinned. "I just need some help, if you know where to find some ingredients. First, do you know where to get any honey or honeywater?"

The first ingredient and base for the potion was honeywater; a simple mixture of boiled fresh water and honey. It was a common base for many digestible potions, so it shouldn't be too hard to find, he thought.

"Hah, not mead, but honey?" Erandur frowned. "You'll have problems there, I fear, unless you can find a beehive out in the wild. The two meaderies; Honningbrew and Blackbriar, run a very tight market on honey."

"O-oh..."

"You'll have to either look to one of the bigger markets in Solitude, Windhelm or Whiterun. But it will be expensive. You might be better off going down south and looking the wilds," Erandur explained.

How far would he have to go? It had been perpetual snow and cold their whole while in Skyrim so far.

Seeing Harry's troubled expression, Erandur continued: "Your best bet for that just south of Windhelm. The hot springs there should have some groves already in bloom. With luck, you'll find some there. But I'd be careful about bears and spriggans if you do try."

Blinking, Harry nodded. He would have to look at a map to see how far it was to Windhelm and what kind of options he had.

"Okay. The next would be vervain."

Like honeywater, it was a common enough base in potions, but for the Invigoration draught it would be added in equal measure to the honeywater as it was brought to a boil. Of course, it couldn't be in its raw form, but as an infusion; a form of tea-like blend with water. He wasn't exactly sure how to make the infusion, since it had always been already prepared as an ingredient in potions class, but he was sure he could figure it out.

"Vervain?" Erandur asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Pigeon's grass, pigeon weed," Luna offered. "Simpler's joy? Enchanter's plant? Juno's tears?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid none of those sound familiar. Could you describe it or its effects?"

Luna did so, showing with her hands as she spoke: "It's a flower growing _so _high, with purple flowers _so _big, with thick and messy bushes with tough stalks like _this, _perfect for nargles to hide in, much like in mistletoe_._"

Around this time, most of the orcs decided to beg off, returning to their work and leaving them to it.

"Oh, purple mountain flower? That should be easy enough to find. Frida should have some of it stored away, dried or as a tincture." Erandur nodded, apparently not knowing what nargles were either as he ignored that part of the description wholly.

_So far, so good_, Harry thought as he nodded.

"Okay, then I need..."

"Hold on," Erandur interrupted. "A three-ingredient recipe? Are you certain that you should be making such an advanced potion?"

"It's actually four ingredients—the Invigoration Draught—and I've done it before. Luna hasn't yet, I think." Glancing to her, she nodded. He remembered learning it rather late into fifth-year potions, after all. And while it was an O.W.L.-level brew, he did feel confident in making it. "It's not a very difficult potion to make. Even _Neville_ managed to keep his cauldron in one piece."

Erandur nodded, understanding the joke for what it was, inferring how extraordinary it must for this 'Neville'. "Of course. Then, the last two ingredients?"

"Right, uh... Scurvy grass."

"Spoonwort," Luna supplied immediately, but neither appeared to be familiar to the priest.

She then went on to describe it, impressing Harry with her knowledge of herbology, as he definitely didn't remember half of what she had just said. Though a lot of it related to other things he had never even heard of, so some of its validity was suspect...

Finally, Erandur nodded and smiled widely.

"I know that grass... Can't remember the name, or if it even has any, There's plenty of it to the east of here, near Morthal. Especially up by and along the coast to the sea of ghosts. I think some of the fishers and sailors like to chew it. I have never found any use for it in alchemy, though. Perhaps only for a lack of trying."

"Great, we'll ask when we swing by the docks. Okay, umm, the final ingredient can be one of either two, I _think_... It can either be lovage," Luna remained quiet at this, despite Erandur's slight shake of head, apparently knowing no alternate names for the herb. "Or Sneezewort. I _think_... There are so many different _worts_. But the last ingredient can be either of those two."

"Oh, sneezeweed, pellitory, goose tongue, white tansy?" Luna listed. But none of the names rang a bell. So again, she went into some detail explaining how the plants looked.

But even after fifteen minutes, they hadn't managed to figure out either plant's local identity yet.

"I'm sorry, but neither sounds familiar. Perhaps they simply are not native to Skyrim..." Erandur shrugged helplessly. "Are you certain that the fourth ingredient is absolutely necessary?"

Harry nodded with a grimace. He didn't know exactly how the draught would be affected by leaving it incomplete, but years of potions had hammered in a respect for getting things _right_. None of the ingredients were particularly volatile, and as he had noted, even Neville had managed it. But that didn't mean it would be safe to leave something out. Running a hand through his hair, Harry shook his head.

"Thank you, Erandur. You were a big help already, I'll just have to figure out the rest myself."

The priest sighed and nodded, leaving it at that.

"Anyhow, what are you guys doing?" Harry asked, looking around at the orcs who had resumed working around them.

"We managed to acquire permission from the Jarl to build a temple for Mara. It will serve as a shelter and place to heal," Erandur explained, glowing with the same enthusiasm as earlier. "We are currently appraising for a suitable plot of land to build on and planning. For now, this seems to be the most suitable location so we are clearing the snow and ice to see whether the ground is suitable for laying a foundation on..."

"Oh... Wow, that's great! Do you need any help?" Harry immediately asked, looking around.

"No, no. That's alright. We'll be digging here and there to investigate for weeks... You have your own business to take care of, don't you?" Erandur assured him as he shook his head.

"Still..." Harry insisted, looking at some of the tools the orcs had.

It looked like they had flat pieces of wood for digging, no more than stumps of firewood, really. It would keep their fingers from getting cold and wet, but it couldn't be comfortable or efficient.

"We could transfigure you some better tools, at least? They won't last forever, but it should make your work a lot smoother?"

He knew how miserable working with just your hands could be when digging after many summers at the Dursley's.

"Transfigure...? Well..." Erandur hesitated, looking at the orcs who were still working without paying attention to them. "If you could show me, perhaps it would be alright."

Harry nodded, drawing his wand and picking a piece of wood that he thought suitable. One of the orcs was wiping his brow at that moment and had set down the half-rotten piece of wood, that was not even suitable for firewood.

There wasn't any handy 'wood-to-shovel' transfiguration that he could remember, so Harry would have to free-form it.

Stabbing forward with his wand in a precise gesture, he intoned: "_Muto lignum._"

The piece of wood wobbled, like its surface had turned into liquid and something had sunk into it at the point where the wand had stabbed towards. Slowly, it began to stretch out and widen, taking on a more useful shape for moving snow. It increased in size as he pumped more magic into the spell and finally he exhaled with satisfaction as a fully formed snow shovel had been created. The kind which he would have loved to have when he had been told to shovel the driveway before he began to spend that half of the year at Hogwarts.

"There."

The orc, Sir Cardemum, if Harry remembered correctly, looked at the newly formed shovel with some suspicion. But he shrugged and grabbed the thing after one of the others groused at him to stop lazing about.

"Well now, that would be rather helpful," Erandur exclaimed, rather surprised. "How long will it last?"

"I don't really know. Probably a few hours at least," Harry shrugged. He had never had cause to test it before.

"That would be quite a boon, my friends."

So Harry and Luna spent a few minutes transfiguring a number of better tools, Luna taking to the exercise much like she had to the morning's practise, despite free-form wood Transfiguration being something she had already covered herself as a fifth year.

"There was something else," Erandur said when they had finished. "I did not consider it at first, but perhaps you might find something of use there after all..." Seeing Harry's confused look, he continued. "The priests of Vaermina performed a considerable amount of experiments with various alchemical concoctions. It has been a long time, but perhaps you could discover something of use in what remains there?"

They had only gone there to recover some of the acolytes and orcs, and to find the dreamstride when they had been delving the old temple's depths. While much of what had been there had already rotted, perhaps some of it was still worth investigating. If for no other reason than to see if there was anything they could give Erandur.

"Alright, I'll go take a look later," Harry said.

After that they said their goodbyes and headed for Dawnstar, hoping to catch some of the merchant captains still by the docks before they all vanished who knew where at the end of the day.

"Do you want to go see if there are any decent cloaks? I need to go see the smith about a cauldron..." Harry asked Luna.

A cauldron couldn't be made out of magically reactive materials, which meant Transfiguration was right out. But aside from the cauldrons he had bought for Hogwarts, he had no idea how much something like that would cost, nor how good an iron or steel cauldron would be compared to s pewter, tin, copper or silver one.

Luna blinked up at him, staring at him from under her blonde bangs. "A cloak?"

"Yeah, if you could find two, that'd be great."

She raised a thoughtful finger to her lip, pondering for a moment. Before she declared and turned around: "Alright, Harry."

"W-wait, wait a minute, Luna. I didn't give you any money..." He ran after her, giving her half of the coin pouch he had brought along, some 300 septims.

They had divided their money into three equal parts; one fund for spells, each, and one final third for other expenses. So far, Harry hadn't bought any spells, but he didn't know how much Luna had spent yet. Regardless, he wasn't going to let her spend her spell money on buying the cloaks, when they had a separate expenses fund for that.

"Oh! Thank you!" She accepted the pouch and skipped away towards the docks, singing some off-tune shanty as she went.

Harry sighed, shaking his head.

Even as he worried about Luna spending her money on supplies, he was fairly certain he would have to do it himself for the Invigoration Draught. Either for the ingredients or for cauldron itself. But since he was hoping to see some return on that money spent, he convinced himself it was fine. He would be missing out on being able to buy two spells, but he was sure he would be too busy with everything to even get around to learning properly the one he could buy.

Rustleif appeared to be tidying up for the day, his firepit already having died down as he swept the floor of his outdoor smithy.

"Hello there...?" he greeted Harry, looking slightly overwhelmed at first with Harry's unusual-by-local-standards robes, before his expression warmed. "Ah, I see you've returned. Though, without the good lady-love by your side? Ah, the stormy romances of the young..."

Not quite catching the teasing tone, Harry merely raised a hand in greeting, only slightly confused.

"Lovegood? Luna's by the docks, I think?"

"Sp she has not left you yet? Haha, my friend. That's good. You had me worried for a moment there. Now, what can Rustleif do for you? I see that you are not in need of work any more. Some _other_ advice you seek, perhaps?"

"Err..." Harry blinked again, before shaking his head slightly. "No, I was hoping to buy a cauldron, actually."

"A cauldron?" Rustleif asked, blinking.

"Yes, do you have any? I need it within a week."

The smith shook his head.

"Not on hand. Most in town already have one and in good use they can last generations. But it wouldn't take me long to make one."

"Great! I need a few things..." Harry began, explaining the specifics of what he needed.

He was used to his school cauldrons, but those were only really good for small batches, so it was probably alright if he bought a size bigger now, something which could brew a larger batch with a single brewing. He also needed sturdy handles on the side, and a burner tripod to put beneath the cauldron, so he could control the temperature precisely.

Finally, he wasn't sure about the material.

"Silver...?" Rustleif asked, flabbergast.

Wincing, Harry explained. "Would it be possible to paint the inside of the cauldron to make it cheaper?"

"I have no idea." He shook his head. "I have never worked with silver, so I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Alright, I'll forget about the silver then," Harry said, slumping. Maybe he could find some copper later?

"There's a lot of repair work lately—the miners have far too much energy since the nightmares ended and they're working harder to catch up on late shipments now... Anyhow, because of that I could have the cauldron done in about a week for 20 septims... Or in a few days for a 100 septims."

"A hundred...!?"

"I'll have to put it ahead of my regular customers' work. It could hurt my long-term work, you understand?" Rustleif shrugged.

Harry frowned, now realizing what the smith's game was. Not quite willing to pay through the nose, he could still meet the man halfway: "I'll pay you thirty if you can get it done two days early."

"Hmm..." Rustleif made a show of considering the offer.

It had been a mistake to tell that he needed the cauldron soon, since it was always about haggling in Skyrim when you could. Still, it wasn't like Harry needed it as soon as possible, as he didn't even have the ingredients yet. Brewing the Invigoration Draught only took a few hours, anyway.

Seeing that Harry wasn't budging, the smith relented. "Alright, deal. Thirty gold for the cauldron."

"Good. I'll be here at noon in five days for it."

They shook hands and parted ways.

"What else was there...?" Harry wondered as he headed for the docks.

The Mortar and Pestle, he remembered. To confirm the ingredients and to see if she was willing to sell any of her purple mountain flowers to him. Maybe he should ask if any of the captains had any honey while he looked for Luna?

Afternoon had already rolled well into evening by the time Harry came to the docks, finding them near-abandoned as most seamen were already eagerly heading down to town, with mead and food on their minds. He didn't manage to find any of the merchants he had hoped to nor did he find any scurvy grass, but some fifteen minutes later he found a pixie-like blonde sitting on a crate.

Wand in hand, Luna appeared to be in the middle of something as all her focus was occupied by something.

"Find anything?" he asked and she did not even look up from her lap.

Now close enough to spot what she was working on, he realized she was cradling some kind of thick, off-white grey cloth in her lap. She, without looking up, spoke: "Not yet, Harry."

"Oh, err... Alright. Should I come back later...?"

"Mhmm..." She nodded.

"Alright, then... I'll go run by Frida's, and... Come back here then?"

"Mhmm..." She nodded again.

"Right..."

Turning a hundred and eighty degrees around, he headed for Frida's shop, already running through the list of questions he wanted to ask her. One of the things that had begun bothering him was the apparent differences between _Potions _as he knew it and _Alchemy _as it was known in Skyrim. If Frida really wasn't a witch, as she claimed, then she shouldn't be able to brew any potions, yet she was an accomplished enough alchemist to have made her living doing so.

Knocking his feet against the wooden porch to get as much snow and slush off as possible, he entered the Mortar and Pestle, squinting into the darkness of the inside. Even as the sun was starting to set and there was a fire in the hearth, it was still almost pitch black for the first few seconds.

"Welcome to the Mortar and Pestle, dear. What can I help you with today?" he heard Frida greeting him from the right, where he remembered the counter being.

"Good afternoon, uh... Give me a few moments, and I'll..." he mumbled, squinting and rubbing his eyes to make them adjust.

There was an amused sound and he was sure that Frida was laughing at his bumbling around.

Clearing his throat he ambled his way to the counter.

"Right, uh... Do you have any purple mountain flowers? I'd like to buy some, if you do."

"Oh no, dear. I'm afraid I'm all out of purple mountain flower. I had some dried stock and tincture stored, a month before you and that lovely little lady came to town... But the nightmares emptied my stock completely."

Harry scuffed the floor with his shoe irritably, trying to keep it from showing. "That's too bad. I really could have used it, but..."

"If you really need some, then perhaps you should visit that nice family who moved into Frostflow Lighthouse east from here," Frida suggested.

Harry frowned. "The lighthouse? You mean the one by the coast, outside of town?"

"No, no. The large lighthouse, up the mountains to the east, between the Pale and Winterhold. My husband and I used to go for week-long walks, gathering herbs and spending time together up in the mountains there. There are always so many herbs and plants growing there, year-round, but you have to be careful of the beasts there. Wolves, bears, sabre cats and even Frost Trolls! You have to be very careful, dear. Oh, my husband would always bring his poisons to keep us safe and sometimes we would end up coming back with our packs full of herbs and still having made a loss because of that..."

Harry blinked as Frida continued regaling him with stories of the mountains, though he had already somewhat lost the plot on why she was telling him any of this.

"He used to call me his 'pretty Juniper.' It's quite romantic, if you're an alchemist. Frost took the old fool a few seasons back, while he was looking for the Ring of Pure Mixtures. I found the ring's resting place after he died, but I'm far too old to go exploring some cave, now."

"So, uh, purple mountain flowers?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Oh, yes, of course," she laughed gaily. "The very nice family who moved in there, very nice people, though it's so very far. Must be terribly boring for the children... Yes, they have wonderful patches of purple mountain flowers growing there. I'm sure they would still have some and would be willing to sell it to you, if you're very desperate."

"Umm... The lighthouse. Right, okay." Harry blinked, feeling slightly light-headed. Perhaps he needed a journal of some kind to keep track of everything? "Okay, then, do you have any honey or honeywater...?"

"Hmm, of course I do, dear. Tea just doesn't taste the same without it. But whatever for do you need honey?" she replied and Harry brightened up considerably.

He leaned on the counter eagerly. "Well, I need it for a potion. Could you sell some to me?"

She blinked, her wrinkled countenance growing deeper and more creased as she furrowed her brows. "A potion? With honey...?"

Harry nodded and explained: "I dilute it into warm water and use it as a base for an Invigoration Draught."

There was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes over the potion's name. Potions and Alchemy really were different, then. Which meant that she wouldn't be much help in finding either lovage or sneezeworth, or anything to replace them with.

"Hmm, I have never heard of such a draught, though I know very well how potent draughts can be. You be careful now, dear."

He nodded.

But still, it he couldn't deny that he found Alchemy to be slightly interesting. Perhaps it was just his practical side realizing that he would need to know more about it so that he could properly brew his Potions and make money, but he felt like he should try and learn it as well.

So...

"Would you teach me Alchemy?"

"Teach you..." That brought the old woman short and for a moment she looked as if she was considering it. But then, as if deflating, she shook her head. "I'm afraid I just don't have the energy, my dear. Or the knowledge. My husband would have had the passion to pass on the art, but I..." She shook her head again. "If you wish for someone to teach you alchemy, head to Morthal to the west, or Whiterun to the south. The alchemist there are much more skilled than I, and younger and prettier besides!" she said with a livelier laugh now.

"Okay, thanks anyhow," Harry said and they stood there, quiet for a long moment. He tried to think back to his other needs and finally asked: "Do you have any scurvy grass? Or, umm, spoonwort by another name? The sailors supposedly like to keep some on hand and it's supposed to grow along the coast?"

"Oh, do you perhaps mean frost miriam?" she asked, pointing to a bundle of dried herbs hanging from the eaves. "It's used more often as a spice, but sailors do love it on long voyages."

Harry look up and squinted, blinking as he recognized it as the dried form of the familiar grass he had come to know as scurvy grass. He nodded, grinning. "Yes, that's exactly it. How much can you sell me?"

"Oh, take as much as you want. It's the honey that will cost you," she replied teasingly.

In the end, he left The Mortar and Pestle fifty septims poorer, laden with a medium-sized clay jar of honey and a similarly sized pouch full of dried herbs. Heading for the docks, he counted with his fingers.

"That's honey and scurvy grass taken care of... That will leave me five days to find purple mountain flowers and lovage or sneezewort... Leaving me with two days' time to brew the potion..." It seemed reasonable. He could still check out Nightcaller Temple—a quick apparition away, and it wasn't going anywhere soon—and after that he would have to travel to Frostflow Lighthouse, or its vicinity anyhow, to look for purple mountain flowers.

But those could wait till tomorrow; it was already getting dark anyhow.

Lovage or sneezewort would be harder to find, as no one seemed to recognize it. He hoped that it did exist in this world, since so many other ingredients obviously did. Perhaps someone at the College would know? _Plenty of time,_ he reminded himself. Of course, he still had promised to attend Faralda's lecture tomorrow and he had the mornings with Luna, so he didn't have all the time in the world to waste.

Up ahead, like a mirage against the dark ocean with her seemingly radiant halo of swaying hair, sat Luna. She was swinging her feet and looking at the various houses, as the people were settling down into their homes for the night.

"Hullo, Luna."

"Hullo, Harry," she mimed his greeting, even the way he awkwardly clutched onto the honey jar and didn't quite manage a wave.

"So, find anything?" he asked again.

She jumped off the crate and flourished the pool of blackness that had been over her legs. Harry blinked as he realized it was a black cloak, which she twirled about and brought to rest over her own shoulders, tying it together at the front.

He realized after a second of looking that the inside was a different colour from the outside, lined with a blue fabric. It rested on her shoulders, sporting a modest hood and reaching just to her knees.

It was a very nice cloak, he realized with surprise.

"There's one for you, too."

Harry blinked, shaking his head. "Wha?"

Smiling, she reached for another similar cloak and whirled it in the air and bringing it to rest on his head, not quite managing to flourish it onto his shoulders with their height difference. He blinked, looking down as she tugged it into place, ruffling his hair in the process. His cloak's inner lining was a rich burgundy, only a shade darker than Gryffindor red, though it could have just been the gloom of the evening playing tricks on his eyes.

It was just as long as Luna's cloak, meaning it reached only to mid-thigh. But already he felt a lot warmer.

"This is incredible, Luna..." he whispered, touching the cloak gingerly. The outside was woollen felt and the lining was something softer and less abrasive, though he couldn't recognize what. "Did... Did you make these?"

She nodded, humming a tune under her breath.

"Wow... Are they transfigured?"

He hoped not. It would be such a waste to lose the cloak, though it would make him much more motivated to learn permanent transfigurations.

Luna shook her head. "Only a little. You can't charm transfigured things very well. Mummy used to make me things like this."

"So they're like those quidditch heads you made?" he asked, running the cloak between his fingers and still marvelling at it.

"Mhmm..." She nodded, smiling now.

Harry blinked, realizing that for the first time there was a touch of pride in Luna's voice.

"These are brilliant, Luna. I guess Madam Malkins will have to watch out once we get back," Harry said with a grin.

She shook her head, eyes wide and serious. "Oh no. I don't know how to make robes or trousers or pants. Or socks." The last of which seemed to bother her the most as she frowned prettily.

Still, her protests only made Harry's grin wider.

"_Yet,_" he said, as if making a premonition. "You'll take Britain's fashion scene by storm, just you wait."

Luna tilted her head, curious at his certainty, yet also smiling slightly. Still curious about the cloak, he set down his potions purchases.

"So how much did you charm this? Do I have to worry about it vanishing if I use a finite on myself?" he asked, only half-joking.

She considered it, tapping a finger to her lower lip.

"Well, the warming charm and colour change charm will vanish..."

"I _thought _it was really warm," he noted with interest. "Is it a permanent warming charm?"

She shook her head. "But it takes very well to the fabric, since its purpose is to be warm anyhow."

"Does that matter?" he asked, not remembering anything like that in Flitwick's lessons.

"In enchanting with charms it does. You have to make the item with the charm in mind from the very beginning. Some things take better than others," she explained and looked up, in thought as if recalling something. "You have to enchant along nature and purpose, else it will wash away like a regular charm will. The warming charm will last a while, I should think."

"Wow... I've never heard any of this before. Is Flitwick giving private lessons to Ravenclaws or something?" Harry joked.

"Oh, its N.E.W.T.-level charms material, Harry," she told him with a reassuring nod. "The colour changing charm isn't, though."

"Right, it was in the O.W.L.s." He nodded, remembering both his embarrassing mix-up with the growth charm and the original drab colour of the pile she had had before shooing him away. "I guess that means I can change the colour in a pinch, if I lose my cloak of invisibility."

"Oh no, if you make this cloak invisible, you'll still be very much visible, Harry," she warned him seriously.

He laughed. "I meant, turning it to match to colours of my surroundings. You know, like a chameleon?"

She tilted her head, curious now. "Camomileon?"

He shook his head. "No, not like the tea. _Chameleon_." He emphasized his enunciation. "It's a muggle animal, a tropical lizard that can change its colour at will."

Luna's brows seemed to vanish beneath her bangs as she blinked at him.

"_Really?_" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded. There had been one at the zoo, though it hadn't talked to him. "I can show you when we get back."

She nodded three times, her hair bobbing with the motion as she looked ecstatic at the idea and whispering quietly to herself about, "Colour-changing Chameleons..."

Harry, amused by her excitement, left her to it as he looked closer at his cloak. Specifically the lack of any stitching and how the two fabrics had been attached to each other, with the outer side rolled inwards over the lining so that the fabric wouldn't fray at the edges.

"Did you use Epoximise to fuse the fabrics?" he asked, rolling the fabrics between his thumb and finger.

Slightly dazed and dreamy, she nodded.

"Will they pop off each other if I use a finite?"

She shook her head, her waist-length hair swaying left and right. "Mummy taught me a trick to turning the sticking charm permanent."

"Oh?" he asked, piqued and reminded of a certain screeching portrait.

"Mm, you fail spectacularly on _purpose_," Luna explained with a sparkle in her eyes. "Like failed transfigurations, the two are permanently fused together that way. It's quite horrible."

"Huh." That was at the same time much more magical and a lot more mundane than he had expected. Magic still found ways to surprise him, even after all these years. "Thanks, Luna. I love it."

She smiled brightly, face slightly flushed in the cold because of the warm cloaks they now wore.

"Anyhow, ready to head back? I got some honey and scurvy grass from Frida—though apparently it's called frost miriam here. So, I'm just about done for today."

She smiled and nodded, shaking beneath her cloak for a moment—and then suddenly her right arm popped out through the cloak. Harry gawked, only to realize a second later that there was a slit opening in the side of the garment. And checking his own cloak, he found similar openings at both sides at elbow height, allowing him to push an arm through without opening the front of the cloak.

Which meant keeping the warmth from escaping if he wanted to use his arms.

"Brilliant..." he muttered again before shaking his head and offering his arm to Luna for the apparition.

And as she took a hold his arm, they vanished with a pop and whirl of tangled shadows and cloaks, leaving naught but swirling snow in their wake.

* * *

**Blyaahh, put way too much thought into the alchemy/potions here. Got my hands on half a dozen irl herbology books and tried to match as much of the ingredients to Skyrim as I could, but still not a perfect match. Like the alchemical effects of purple mountain flower and frost miriam don't match vervain and scurvy grass at all, and they even look quite different. But, well, roughly right is better than precisely wrong :V**

**Also got the recipe from that mobile game, but I haven't played it myself. It just looked like a reasonable potion with the ingredients listed(there were actually two alternatives, but the other had stuff like billywig stings, which would be pretty difficult to get in Skyrim. A common problem with HP potions. They seem to need magical creature parts for _everything _they brew.)**

**Liked this chapter quite a bit, since they're getting their feet on the ground finally.**


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